ROBERT  TOURNAY 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


5399  \V   .'.;T   HOLT  £_V2>» 
MONTCLAIR,  CALIFORNIA 


"A  CHEER  FOR  THE  GODDESS  OF  LIBERTY"  (page  47) 


ROBERT  TOURNAY 


Komance  of  tlje 
Evolution 


BY 


WILLIAM  SAGE 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  ERIC  PAPE 
AND  MARY  AVER 


BOSTON  AND   NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 
pres^,  Cambri&0e 
1900 


LIBRARY 

DIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


COPYRIGHT,  1900,  BY  WILLIAM  SAGE 

AND  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


TO  MY  MOTHER 

TO   WHOM   I   OWE   EVERYTHING 

I   LOVINGLY   DEDICATE 

THIS   STORY. 


CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGE 

I.    HOW   TOTJRNAY   CAME   TO   PARIS    ....  1 

II.   A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S         .  22 

III.  THE  BAKER  AND  HIS  FAMILY       ....  42 

IV.  THE  " BON  PATRIOT" 57 

V.  A  BROKEN  DOOR 73 

VI.  A  MAN  AND  A  MARQUIS 84 

VII.   GAILLARD  GOES  ON  A  JOURNEY    ....  99 

VIII.  PERE  LOUCHET'S  GUESTS    .        .        .        .        .  106 

IX.  PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR        .        .        .        .118 

X.   OVER  THE  FRONTIER 137 

XL  UNDER  WHICH  FLAG  ? 156 

XII.  THE  FOUR  COMMISSIONERS        ....  174 

XIII.  THE  SWORD  OF  ROCROY 189 

XIV.  SOMETHING  HIDDEN 206 

XV.  THE  PRESIDENT'S  NOTE 215 

XVI.  BENEATH  THE  MASK 224 

XVII.   PIERRE  AND  JEAN 237 

XVIII.   THE  LUXEMBOURG 246 

XIX.  TAPPEUR  AND  PETITSOU 265 

XX.  UNCLE  MICHELET 279 

XXI.   CITIZENESS  PRIVAT 294 

XXII.  CITIZENESS  PRIVAT'S  CARD        ....  303 

XXIII.  TOURNAY'S  VISITOR 313 

XXIV.  Two  WOMEN 328 

XXV.  No.  7  RUE  D'ARCIS 349 

XXVI.  THE  END  OF  THE  TERROR        ....  363 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 
"A   CHEER   FOB    THE   GODDESS    OF    LIBERTY "     (page   47) 

Frontispiece 

DE  LACHEVILLE  FACING  A  YOUNG  WOMAN       ...  6 

"  STOP  !  "  CRIED  TOURNAY 88 

ADJUSTED  THE  NECKCLOTH  TO  HIS  SATISFACTION    .        .  248 

"  WOULD  YOU  MURDER  ME  ?" 342 

A  MOMENT   THEY   STOOD   IN   SILENCE               ....  370 


ROBERT  TOURNAY 


CHAPTER  I 

HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO  PARIS 

THE  Marquis  de  Lacheville  sat  in  the  dining- 
hall  of  the  chateau  de  Rochefort.  In  his  hand  he 
held  a  letter.  Although  it  was  from  a  woman, 
the  writing  was  not  in  those  delicately  traced  char 
acters  which  suggest  the  soft  hand  of  some  lady 
of  fashion.  The  note-paper  was  scented,  but  the 
perfume,  like  the  color,  was  too  pronounced ;  and 
the  spelling,  possibly  like  the  lady's  character, 
was  not  absolutely  flawless. 

A  smile  played  about  the  cold  thin  lips  of  the 
marquis ;  he  carelessly  thrust  the  missive  into  his 
pocket,  as  one  disposes  of  a  bill  he  does  not  intend 
to  pay,  and  lifting  his  eyes,  allowed  his  gaze  to 
wander  through  the  open  window  toward  the  fig 
ure  of  a  young  girl  who  stood  outside  upon  the 
terrace. 

She  was  watching  a  game  of  tennis  in  the  court 
below,  now  and  then  conversing  with  the  players, 
whose  voices  in  return  reached  de  Lacheville's 
ears  on  the  quiet  summer  air. 

A  few  minutes  before  in  that  dining-hall  the 


2  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Baron  de  Rochefort  had  betrothed  his  daughter 
Edme  to  his  friend  and  distant  kinsman,  Maurice 
de  Lacheville.  In  the  eyes  of  the  world  it  was  a 
suitable  match.  The  marquis  was  twenty-five,  the 
girl  eighteen.  She  was  an  only  child ;  and  their 
rank  and  fortunes  were  equal. 

They  did  not  love  each  other.  The  marquis 
loved  no  one  but  himself.  Mademoiselle  had  been 
brought  up  to  consider  all  men  very  much  alike. 
She  might  possibly  have  had  some  slight  prefer 
ence  for  the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire,  who  was  now 
playing  tennis  in  the  court  beneath ;  but  it  was 
well  known  that  .he  was  dissipating  his  fortune 
at  the  gaming-table.  Mademoiselle  did  not  lack 
strength  of  will ;  but,  her  heart  not  being  involved, 
she  allowed  her  father  to  make  the  choice  for  her, 
as  was  the  custom  of  the  time. 

De  Lacheville  continued  sitting  at  the  table, 
now  looking  dispassionately  at  the  woman  who 
was  to  become  his  wife,  now  looking  beyond  to 
ward  the  wide  sweep  of  park  and  meadow  land, 
while  he  calculated  how  much  longer  his  cousin, 
the  baron,  would  live  to  enjoy  possession  of  his 
great  wealth. 

What  the  young  girl  thought  is  merely  a  mat 
ter  of  conjecture.  She  was  as  fresh  and  sweet  as 
the  pink  rose  which  she  plucked  from  the  trellis 
and  gayly  tossed  to  the  marquis  below.  He  caught 
it  gracefully  and  put  it  to  his  lips  —  while  she 
laughed  merrily  with  never  a  thought  for  the 
marquis  within. 

Near  the  tennis  court  stood  another  man.     He 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO  PARIS  3 

was  tall  and  well-made,  with  dark  eyes  and  a  sun- 
browned  face.  Beyond  furnishing  new  balls  and 
rackets  when  required,  he  took  no  part  in  the 
game,  for  he  was  the  son  of  the  intendant  of  the 
chateau  and  therefore  a  servant. 

He  watched  the  rose  which  the  lady  so  carelessly 
tossed,  with  hungry  eyes,  as  a  dog  watches  a  bone 
given  to  some  well-fed  and  happier  rival.  At  the 
call  from  one  of  the  players  he  replaced  a  broken 
racket,  then  took  up  his  former  post,  apparently 
intent  upon  the  game,  but  in  reality  his  mind  was 
far  afield. 

It  was  in  the  early  summer  days  of  the  year 
1789.  Looking  out  over  the  baron's  noble  estates 
through  the  eyes  of  a  girl  like  mademoiselle,  the 
world  was  very  beautiful.  Glancing  at  it  through 
the  careless  eyes  of  the  prodigal  St.  Hilaire,  it 
seemed  very  pleasing ;  but  in  spite  of  these  wav 
ing  crops,  and  wealthy  vineyards,  in  spite  of  the 
plenty  in  the  baron's  household  and  the  rich  wines 
in  his  cellar,  throughout  France  there  were  many 
who  had  not  enough  to  eat.  Men,  and  women  too, 
were  crying  out  for  their  share  of  the  world's  riches. 

A  new  wave  of  thought  was  sweeping  over 
France.  A  thought  as  old  as  the  hills,  yet  star- 
tlingly  new  to  each  man  as  he  discovered  it.  Books 
were  being  written  and  words  spoken  which  were 
soon  to  cause  great  political  changes  in  a  land 
already  seething  with  discontent.  Change  and 
Progress  at  last  were  in  the  saddle,  and  they  were 
riding  fast.  As  the  careless  noblemen  batted  their 
tennis  balls  back  and  forth,  thinking  only  of  their 


4  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

game  ;  as  the  young  girl  leaned  over  the  rose-cov 
ered  terrace,  thinking  of  the  sunlight,  the  flowers, 
and  the  beauty  of  life,  Robert  Tournay,  the  intend- 
ant's  son,  pondered  deeply  on  the  "  rights  of  man  " 
while  he  ran  after  the  tennis  balls  for  those  who 
played  the  game. 

As  if  wearied  by  the  contemplation  of  his  pro 
spective  married  bliss,  Monsieur  de  Lacheville 
yawned,  arose  from  his  seat  and  strolled  leisurely 
from  the  room,  descended  the  staircase  and  came 
out  into  the  park  in  the  rear  of  the  chateau,  unob 
served  by  the  tennis  players.  The  note  in  his 
pocket  called  him  to  a  rendezvous ;  and  the  mar 
quis,  after  some  deliberation,  had  decided  to  keep 
it.  Once  in  the  wooded  park  and  out  of  sight  of 
the  house,  he  quickened  his  pace  to  a  brisk  walk  ; 
proceeding  thus  for  half  a  mile  he  suddenly  left 
the  driveway  and  plunging  through  the  thick  foli 
age  by  a  path  which  to  the  casual  eye  was  barely 
visible,  came  out  into  a  shady  and  unfrequented 
alley. 

A  few  minutes  after  de  Lacheville's  disappear 
ance  into  the  woods,  the  other  noblemen,  wearied 
of  their  sport,  retired  into  the  house  for  refresh 
ment. 

This  left  young  Tournay  free  for  the  time  being, 
and  he  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  go 
down  toward  a  pasture  beyond  the  park  where 
some  young  horses  were  running  wild,  innocent  of 
bit  or  bridle.  It  was  Tournay's  intention  to  break 
one  of  these  colts  for  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort. 
She  was  a  fearless  rider,  and  it  gave  the  young 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO   PARIS  5 

man  pleasure  to  be  commissioned  to  pick  out  an 
animal  at  once  gentle  and  mettlesome  for  the  use 
of  his  young  mistress. 

The  Tournays,  from  father  to  son,  had  been  for 
generations  the  intendants  of  the  de  Rochefort 
estate.  With  the  baron's  permission  Matthieu 
Tournay  had  sent  his  son  away  to  school,  and  he 
had  thus  received  a  better  education  than  most 
young  men  of  his  class.  He  was  of  an  ambitious 
temper,  and  this  very  education,  instead  of  making 
him  more  contented  with  his  lot  in  life,  increased 
his  restlessness.  It  only  served  to  show  him  more 
clearly  the  line  that  separated  him  from  those  he 
served.  In  his  own  mind  he  had  never  defined 
his  feeling  for  Mademoiselle  de  Eochefort.  He 
only  knew  that  it  gave  him  great  pleasure  to  serve 
her ;  and  yet,  as  he  did  her  bidding,  he  felt  a 
pang  that  between  them  was  the  gulf  of  caste  ; 
that  even  when  she  smiled  upon  him  it  was  merely 
the  favored  servant  whom  she  greeted ;  that  al 
though  he  might  be  as  well  educated  as  the  Count 
de  Blois,  a  better  horseman  than  St.  Hilaire,  and 
a  better  man  than  de  Lacheville,  they  could  enter 
as  equals  into  the  presence  of  this  divine  being, 
while  such  as  he  must  always  take  his  place  below 
the  salt. 

It  was  with  such  thoughts  as  these  revolving  in 
his  brain  that  the  intendant's  son  walked  through 
the  woods  of  the  park.  He  followed  no  path,  for 
he  knew  each  tree  and  twig  from  childhood.  Sud 
denly  he  was  interrupted  in  his  reverie  by  the 
sound  of  voices,  and  stopping  short,  recognized 


6  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

the  voice  of  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville  in  conver 
sation  with  a  woman.  Tournay  hesitated,  then 
went  forward  cautiously  in  the  direction  whence 
the  sound  came.  Had  he  been  born  a  gentleman 
he  would  have  chosen  another  way;  or  at  least 
would  have  advanced  noisily.  Indeed,  such  had 
been  his  first  impulse,  —  but  a  much  stronger  in 
terest  than  curiosity  impelled  him  forward  ;  and 
drawing  near,  he  looked  through  a  gap  in  the 
hedge. 

On  the  other  side  stood  de  Lacheville  facing  a 
young  woman.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed,  and  the 
manner  in  which  she  toyed  with  a  riding-whip 
showed  that  the  discussion  had  been  heated.  Al 
though  she  was  handsomely  dressed  in  a  riding- 
habit  and  assumed  some  of  the  airs  of  a  lady, 
Tournay  recognized  her  at  once  as  a  young  girl 
who  had  disappeared  some  months  before  from 
the  village  of  La  Thierry,  and  whose  handsome 
face  and  vivacious  manner  had  caused  her  to  be 
much  admired.  Near  her  stood  the  nobleman, 
calm  and  self-composed.  Before  men,  de  Lache 
ville  had  been  known  to  flinch  ;  but  with  a  woman 
of  the  humbler  class  the  marquis  could  always  play 
the  master. 

"  And  now,  Marianne,"  said  the  nobleman 
slowly,  "  you  had  better  go,  —  and  do  not  make 
the  mistake  of  coming  here  again." 

Although  she  had  evidently  been  worsted  in  the 
argument,  a  defiant  look  flashed  in  her  dark  eyes 
as  she  answered  him :  "  If  I  believe  you  speak  the 
truth  I  shall  not  come  here  again." 


DE  LACHEVILLE  FACING  A  YOUNG  WOMAN 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO  PARIS  7 

"  Of  course  I  speak  the  truth,"  replied  de 
Lacheville  lightly.  "  I  shall  marry  Mademoiselle 
de  Kochefort "  - 

The  young  woman  winced,  but  she  did  not 
speak. 

De  Lacheville  went  on  slowly  as  if  he  enjoyed 
the  situation  —  "  In  a  year  or  two  —  I  am  in  no 
hurry.  She  is  very  beautiful "  —  here  he  paused 
again  —  "  but  I  prefer  your  style  of  beauty,  Mari 
anne  ;  I  prefer  your  vivacity,  your  life,  your  fire  ; 
I  like  to  see  you  angry.  My  engagement  to 
Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  need  make  no  differ 
ence  in  my  regard  for  you.  That  depends  upon 
yourself."  Here  the  marquis  stepped  forward 
and  kissed  her  on  the  lips. 

Tournay  controlled  himself  by  a  great  effort, 
his  heart  swelling  with  the  resentment  of  a  man 
who  hears  that  which  he  holds  sacred  insulted  by 
another.  And  this  man  who  held  Mademoiselle 
de  Rochefort  in  such  slight  esteem  was  to  be  her 
husband. 

"  And  now,  Marianne,"  said  the  nobleman,  "  you 
must  ride  away  as  you  came,"  and  suiting  the  ac 
tion  to  the  words  he  swung  her  into  the  saddle. 
She  was  docile  now  and  gathered  up  the  reins 
obediently.  "  And,  Marianne,"  continued  the  no 
bleman,  "  never  write  letters  to  me.  I  am  rather 
fastidious  and  do  not  want  my  illusions  dispelled 
too  soon.  Good-by,  my  child." 

She  flushed  as  he  spoke,  and  a  retort  'seemed 
about  to  spring  to  her  lips ;  but  instead  of  reply 
ing  she  shrugged  her  shoulders,  gave  a  sharp  cut 


8  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

of  the  whip  to  the  horse,  and  rode  off  down  the 
pathway. 

De  Lacheville  laughed.  "  She  has  spirit  to  the 
last.  She  pleases  me  ;  "  and  turning,  beheld  Rob 
ert  Tournay  in  the  path  before  him. 

For  a  moment  neither  spoke ;  then  the  noble 
man  asked  sternly,  "  Have  you  been  spying  upon 
me?" 

"  I  have  heard  what  has  passed  between  you  and 
that  woman,"  replied  Tournay  with  a  significance 
that  made  the  marquis  start. 

"You  villain,"  replied  the  nobleman  hotly,  "if 
you  breathe  a  word  about  what  you  have  seen  I 
will  have  you  whipped  by  my  lackeys." 

Tournay's  lips  curled  defiantly. 

"  Or,"  continued  the  marquis,  "  if  one  word  of 
scandal  reaches  the  ears  of  Mademoiselle  de  Roche- 
fort  "- 

Before  the  words  had  left  his  lips,  Tournay 
sprang  forward  and  had  him  by  the  arm. 

"  Do  not  stain  her  name  by  speaking  it,"  he 
cried  fiercely.  "  I  have  heard  you  insult  her ;  I 
have  seen  how  you  would  dishonor  her  ;  you,  who 
are  not  worthy  to  touch  the  hem  of  her  garment. 
What  right  have  you  to  become  her  husband  ? 
Your  very  presence  would  degrade  her.  You 
shall  not  wed  her." 

White  with  rage,  if  not  from  fear,  the  marquis 
struggled  to  free  himself  from  Tournay's  grasp, 
but  he  could  neither  throw  off  his  antagonist  nor 
move  his  arm  enough  to  draw  his  sword.  Find 
ing  himself  powerless  in  the  hands  of  the  stronger 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO  PARIS     9 

man,  he  remained  passive,  only  the  twitching  of 
his  mouth  betraying  his  passion. 

"  And  you  would  prevent  my  marriage,"  he 
said  coldly.  "  So  be  it.  Go  to  the  baron  ;  tell 
your  story.  Go  also  to  mademoiselle,  his  daugh 
ter;  repeat  the  scandal  to  her  ears;  say,  'I  am 
your  champion ; '  and  how  will  they  receive  you  ? 
The  baron  will  have  you  kicked  from  the  room 
and  mademoiselle  will  scorn  you.  Championed  by 
a  servant !  What  an  honor  for  a  lady  !  " 

The  truth  of  what  he  said  struck  Tournay 
harder  than  any  blow;  his  arms  dropped  to  his 
side,  and  he  stepped  back,  as  if  powerless. 

The  marquis  arranged  the  lace  ruffle  about  his 
neck.  Placing  his  hand  upon  his  sword  he  eyed 
Tournay  as  if  debating  what  course  to  pursue. 
He  smarted  under  the  treatment  he  had  received, 
and  his  eyes  glittered  viciously  as  if  he  meditated 
some  prompt  reprisal.  But  above  all  the  marquis 
was  politic,  and  he  also  knew  that  in  his  biting 
tongue  he  possessed  a  weapon  keener  than  a  sword. 

He  stooped  and  plucked  a  flower  from  the  bor 
der  of  the  path,  and  as  he  spoke  a  sarcastic  smile 
played  mockingly  about  his  lips. 

"  I  shall  marry  mademoiselle,"  he  began,  slowly 
dwelling  on  each  word,  while  he  plucked  the  petals 
from  the  flower,  and  tossed  them,  one  by  one,  into 
the  air.  The  gesture  was  a  careless  one,  but  there 
was  a  vicious  cruelty  about  his  fingers  as  he  tore 
the  flower.  "  And  you,"  continued  the  marquis,  — 
"you,  who  one  might  think  had  dared  to  raise 
your  eyes  toward  the  lady's  face  "  — 


10  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Tournay  stood  dumb  before  his  inquisitor.  His 
heart  raged  and  he  writhed  as  if  under  the  lash, 
but  still  he  stood  passive  and  suffering. 

"  And  you  shall  be  our  servant,"  ended  the  no 
bleman,  with  a  laugh,  turning  and  walking  haugh 
tily  up  the  path,  but  with  his  hand  still  on  his 
sword-hilt  lest  he  should  be  again  taken  by  sur 
prise. 

As  the  heels  of  the  marquis  crunched  the  gravel- 
walk  Tournay  felt  the  truth  of  each  word  that  he 
had  spoken  borne  in  upon  his  mind  with  over 
whelming  force.  It  was  not  fear  of  the  marquis's 
sword  that  had  kept  him  silent.  It  was  the  hope 
lessness  of  his  own  position.  What  right  had  he 
to  speak  ?  And  who  would  listen  to  him  ? 

Silently  the  young  man  slipped  into  the  forest 
as  if  to  seek  consolation  from  the  great  murmur 
ing  trees.  As  he  walked  slowly  beneath  their 
green  arches  as  under  some  cathedral  roof,  a  quiet 
strength  came  to  his  soul.  He  seemed  to  feel  that 
the  day  would  come  when  his  voice  would  be  heard 
and  listened  to.  Until  then  he  must  bide  his  time  ; 
and  in  this  frame  of  mind  he  went  back  to  the 
chateau. 

When  Tournay  reached  the  house  he  was  greeted 
by  an  order  from  the  baron.  The  tracks  of  a 
boar  had  been  recently  discovered  in  the  forest  by 
one  of  the  gamekeepers,  and  the  intendant's  son, 
who  was  himself  a  keen  huntsman,  was  directed  to 
escort  the  party  of  gentlemen  through  the  woods 
to  a  glade  where  the  animal  was  supposed  to  have 
his  lair. 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME   TO   PARIS  11 

After  he  had  collected  the  guns  and  ammuni 
tion,  called  up  the  dogs  and  ordered  the  grooms 
to  bring  round  the  horses,  Tournay  went  to  the 
front  of  the  chateau  to  await  the  pleasure  of  the 
young  gentlemen  who  intended  participating  in 
the  hunt. 

There  were  half  a  dozen  of  them  standing  under 
the  porte-cochere,  and  Tournay  disliked  them  all 
in  greater  or  less  degree ;  excepting  perhaps  the 
Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire.  St.  Hilaire  was  the  eld 
est  of  the  group,  the  tallest  and  the  handsomest. 
He  rarely  addressed  any  remark  to  Tournay,  but 
when  he  did,  it  was  with  perfect  politeness.  When 
the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire  rode  his  horse  he  did  it 
with  a  grace  none  could  surpass ;  when  he  shot,  he 
hit  the  mark.  He  had  the  reputation  of  being 
one  of  the  most  dissipated  young  noblemen  in  the 
kingdom.  He  certainly  spent  money  more  lavishly 
than  the  most  prodigal.  This  reputation  was  at 
once  the  envy  and  admiration  of  a  host  of  young 
followers ;  and  yet  if  asked,  no  one  could  mention 
any  particular  debauchery  of  which  he  had  been 
guilty.  When  his  companions,  under  the  excite 
ment  of  wine,  committed  extravagant  follies  and 
excesses,  St.  Hilaire,  although  by  no  means  spar 
ing  of  the  winecup,  maintained  a  certain  dignity 
essentially  his  own.  At  the  gaming-table  it  was 
always  the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire  who  played  the 
highest.  He  won  a  fortune  or  lost  an  estate  with 
the  same  calm  and  outward  indifference.  On 
every  occasion  he  was  the  cool,  polished  gentle 
man. 


12  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

As  Tournay  approached  the  group  of  noblemen, 
the  Marquis  de  Lacheville,  determined  to  keep  him 
in  a  state  of  submission,  greeted  him  with  an  arro 
gant  rebuke. 

"  You  have  kept  us  waiting  a  pretty  length  of 
time." 

"  I  only  received  notice  of  your  intended  hunt  a 
short  time  ago,  and  various  preparations  had  to  be 
made,"  was  the  rejoinder. 

"  Make  no  excuses,"  continued  the  marquis,  — 
"  you  always  have  plenty  of  those  upon  the  end  of 
your  tongue." 

Tournay  bit  his  lip  to  keep  from  replying. 

"  Whose  horse  is  that  ?  "  called  out  the  marquis 
a  moment  later,  pointing  out  one  of  the  animals 
among  the  number  which  were  being  led  up  by  the 
grooms. 

"  My  own,  monsieur  le  marquis  —  a  present  from 
the  baron." 

"  Well,  it  is  by  all  odds  the  best  one  among 
them ;  I  will  ride  it."  And  the  marquis  swung 
himself  into  the  saddle  without  waiting  for  a  reply. 

Tournay  made  no  audible  reply,  but  the  color 
deepened  on  his  cheek,  as  he  quietly  took  another 
horse. 

"  We  shall  never  see  that  boar  if  we  delay  much 
longer,"  called  out  St.  Hilaire,  who  was  long  since 
in  the  saddle.  "  Are  you  ready,  gentlemen  ?  " 

With  one  accord  they  all  started  down  the  ave 
nue  at  a  swift  gallop ;  Tournay  following  a  short 
distance  behind  them. 

For  a  mile  or  so  they  swept  along  the  parkway 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO  PARIS  13 

until  they  arrived  at  the  gate  which  led  into  the 
wood.  De  Lacheville  had  been  correct  in  his 
judgment  of  the  horse,  and  was  the  first  to  reach 
the  gate.  This  seemed  to  make  him  good-natured 
for  the  time  being  ;  and  as  they  cantered  through 
the  forest  he  allowed  Tournay,  who  was  best  ac 
quainted  with  the  ground,  to  ride  in  advance. 

On  approaching  the  entrance  to  the  glade,  the 
party  dismounted  and  the  horses  were  fastened  to 
the  trees.  The  Counts  d'Arlincourt  and  de  Blois 
went  to  the  right ;  the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire  to 
the  left ;  Tournay  took  two  dogs  and  went  toward 
the  northern  end  ;  while  de  Lacheville  remained 
near  the  entrance. 

It  was  arranged  that  Tournay  with  the  dogs 
should  rout  the  animal  from  its  lair  in  the  upper 
end  of  the  dale,  and,  the  thicket  being  surrounded, 
one  of  the  gentlemen  would  be  sure  to  bring  it 
down  with  a  shot  as  it  ran  out. 

Tournay  had  not  gone  half  the  distance  when  he 
heard  a  noise  in  the  underbrush,  and  looking  in 
the  direction  whence  it  came,  saw  the  boar  mak 
ing  its  way  leisurely  down  the  glade,  snuffing  from 
time  to  time  at  the  roots  of  trees  for  acorns. 

Tournay  tried  to  work  down  ahead  of  the  ani 
mal  and  drive  him  off  to  his  right  in  the  direction 
of  the  Marquis  St.  Hilaire,  as  he  was  the  best  shot 
in  the  company,  and  with  a  sportsman's  instinct 
Tournay  wanted  to  give  him  the  opportunity  to 
win  the  tusks.  One  of  the  dogs,  however,  upset 
this  plan  by  slipping  the  leash  and  bounding  off 
in  the  direction  of  the  boar ;  that  animal  took  the 


14  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

alarm  at  once  and  started  on  a  run  down  the  glade 
with  Tournay  and  the  two  dogs  after  him  in  full 
pursuit. 

"  The  Marquis  de  Lacheville  will  be  the  one  to 
shoot  him,"  thought  Tournay  bitterly. 

The  boar,  plunging  through  a  thicket,  made 
straight  for  the  spot  where  the  horses  had  been 
tied,  and  where  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville  had 
taken  up  his  position. 

"  Why  does  he  not  fire  ?  "  was  Tournay's  mental 
inquiry  as  he  followed  the  trail  at  full  speed,  with 
ear  alert  in  the  momentary  expectation  of  hearing 
the  sound  of  a  gun.  "  Can  it  be  that  the  marquis 
is  going  to  risk  attacking  him  with  the  knife  ?  " 
And  he  dashed  into  the  thicket,  regardless  of  the 
brushwood  and  briars  that  impeded  his  progress, 
to  come  out  on  the  other  side,  leaving  a  portion  of 
his  hunting  blouse  in  the  grasp  of  a  too-persistent 
bramble. 

Here  he  beheld  so  ludicrous  a  sight  that  it  would 
have  moved  him  to  merriment,  had  it  not  over 
come  him  with  wonder.  The  marquis  lay  sprawl 
ing  on  the  grass,  his  eyes  rolling  with  terror  and 
his  loaded  gun  lying  harmlessly  by  his  side.  The 
horses  were  straining  at  the  tethers  and  neighing 
with  fright,  while  in  the  wood  beyond,  the  boar 
was  disappearing  from  sight  with  the  dogs  upon 
his  haunches. 

As  Tournay  approached,  the  marquis  struggled 
to  his  feet.  For  a  moment  he  stood  silent  and 
then  said  gruffly  :  — 

"  The  brute  sprang  through  the  bushes  before  I 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO  PARIS  15 

expected  him ;  my  foot  slipped  and  I  fell,  so  he 
got  by  me." 

In  the  instant  it  flashed  through  Tournay's  mind 
that  the  marquis  had  fallen  in  trying  to  avoid  the 
boar.  He  received  the  explanation  in  silence,  his 
face  clearly  betraying  his  suspicion. 

The  marquis  eyed  him  savagely.  "  Where  are 
the  others  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  They  have  evidently  missed  all  the  sport,"  was 
the  curt  rejoinder. 

The  marquis  scowled,  but  his  anxiety  to  conceal 
the  mishap  from  his  companions  led  him  to  over 
look  the  ring  of  sarcasm  in  Tournay's  voice. 

"  Did  they  hear  or  see  the  boar  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  I  fear  not.  The  animal  started  too  near  the 
centre  of  the  glade,  and  luckily  for  him  made 
straight  for  you." 

"  We  have  not  seen  him,  either,"  was  the  cool 
rejoinder. 

"  But  I  saw  him,"  exclaimed  Tournay  with  open- 
eyed  astonishment. 

"Up  in  the  thicket  beyond?  Possibly,"  admitted 
the  marquis,  who  had  now  regained  his  self-posses 
sion  and  had  resolved  to  put  the  best  possible  face 
on  the  matter. 

"  No !  Right  here  in  the  open,  as  he  ran  into 
that  clump  of  beeches." 

"  You  are  mistaken.  I  did  not  see  him,"  the 
marquis  insisted,  approaching  his  horse  and  un- 
tethering  him. 

"  Monsieur  le  marquis  was  possibly  not  looking 
in  the  right  direction." 


16  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

De  Lacheville  mounted  his  horse.  He  bent 
down  from  the  saddle,  saying  fiercely,  "  Twice  this 
day  you  have  ventured  to  oppose  me.  Have  a 
care !  You  will  rue  the  hour  when  you  dispute 
any  statement  of  mine." 

Tournay  looked  up  at  him  defiantly,  and  with  a 
significance  too  deep  to  be  misconstrued,  said :  "  I 
will  not  lie  at  your  bidding,  Monsieur  de  Lache- 
ville." 

"  You  insolent  villain  !  "  and  the  marquis'  whip 
fell  viciously  across  the  defiant  brow.  The  next 
instant  the  nobleman  was  dragged  from  the  saddle 
and  his  riderless  horse  galloped  off  through  the 
woods. 

For  a  moment  the  two  men  stood  looking  at  each 
other. 

Tournay  was  the  first  to  speak :  "  You  will  fight 
me  for  that  blow,  Mpnsieur  de  Lacheville." 

The  marquis  gave  a  harsh  laugh :  "  We  do  not 
fight  lackeys  —  we  whip  them." 

"  We  are  alone,  and  man  to  man  you  shall  fight 
me  with  my  weapons,  monsieur  le  Marquis." 
Tournay  spoke  with  a  certain  air  of  dignity  and 
with  a  suppressed  fierceness  that  made  the  marquis 
draw  back ;  yet  such  was  the  nobleman's  contempt 
for  the  man  of  humble  birth  that  he  made  no  re 
sponse  beyond  flicking  the  whip  which  he  still  re 
tained  in  his  hand,  and  looking  at  him  disdainfully. 

"  You  have  a  hunting-knife  at  your  side ;  arm 
yourself,"  commanded  Tournay  sternly,  at  the 
same  time  drawing  from  beneath  his  hunting-blouse 
a  long,  keen  blade. 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO   PARIS          17 

The  marquis  turned  pale.  "  I  do  not  fight  with 
such  a  weapon,"  he  faltered,  looking  about  him  as 
if  in  hopes  of  succor  from  his  friends. 

"  Then  for  once  the  low-born  has  the  advan 
tage,"  replied  Tournay  pitilessly,  "  and  unless 
Heaven  intervenes,  I  shall  kill  you  for  that  blow." 

The  blow  itself  was  forgotten  even  as  he  spoke, 
and  he  felt  a  fierce  joy  as  he  whispered  to  himself, 
"  If  heaven  so  wills  it,  you  shall  never  marry  her, 
Marquis  de  Lacheville." 

There  was  no  fire  of  revenge  in  his  eyes  as  he 
advanced,  but  the  marquis  saw  the  light  that 
burned  there  and,  realizing  his  pressing  danger, 
drew  his  own  hunting-knife. 

There  was  a  thrust  and  parry.  Tournay  closed 
in  upon  him,  and  the  nobleman  fell  backward  with 
a  groan. 

The  next  instant  Tournay  threw  aside  the  knife 
and  stood  looking  with  awe  upon  the  prostrate 
body.  The  bushes  behind  him  parted  with  a  rustle 
and  he  looked  over  his  shoulder  to  see  the  Marquis 
de  St.  Hilaire  standing  by  him. 

"  What 's  the  matter  ? "  inquired  the  latter 
sternly.  "  Has  the  marquis  injured  himself  ?  " 

"  He  struck  me,"  exclaimed  Tournay,  his  face, 
except  for  a  bright  red  line  across  the  brow,  deadly 
pale.  "  And  I  —  I  have  killed  him." 

St.  Hilaire  stooped  down  and  undid  the  marquis's 
waistcoat,  Tournay  giving  way  to  him.  "  He 's  not 
dead,"  said  St.  Hilaire,  after  a  short  examination. 
44  Your  blade  struck  the  rib.  He  is  not  even  fatally 
hurt,  but  has  fainted." 


18  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Tournay  stood  passive  and  silent. 

St.  Hilaire  rose  to  his  feet  and  proceeded  to  cut 
some  strips  from  his  own  shirt  to  make  a  bandage 
for  de  Lacheville's  wound. 

"  As  far  as  you  are  concerned,  you  might  as 
well  have  killed  him,"  he  said  as  he  bound  up  the 
wound.  "  The  penalty  is  the  same." 

"  I  'm  not  afraid  of  the  penalty." 

"Young  man,"  said  St.  Hilaire,  busying  him 
self  over  the  wound,  "  mount  that  horse  of  yours 
and  ride  away  from  this  part  of  the  country  as  fast 
as  you  can.  I  shall  not  see  you." 

"  I  'm  not  a  coward  to  run  away." 

"  Don't  be  a  fool  and  stay,"  replied  St.  Hilaire 
sharply,  without  looking  up  from  his  occupation. 
"  You  have  acted  as  I  would  have  done  had  I  been 
in  your  place,  but  I  should  not  stay  afterward  with 
all  the  odds  against  me.  Come,  you  have  only 
a  minute  to  decide.  I  '11  see  the  marquis  has  the 
proper  care." 

In  another  minute  Robert  Tournay  was  on  his 
horse's  back  riding  swiftly  away  from  the  scene. 
He  only  thought  of  one  point  of  refuge  and  that 
was  the  city  of  his  dreams,  the  great  city  of  Paris. 
Toward  it  he  turned  his  horse's  head.  When  he 
had  gone  far  enough  to  no  longer  fear  pursuit  he 
dismounted  and  turned  the  horse  loose,  knowing 
that  a  man  riding  a  fine  animal  could  be  more 
easily  traced ;  so  the  rest  of  his  journey  of  a  hun 
dred  miles  was  made  on  foot. 

It  was  about  the  noon  hour,  July  12,  1789,  when 
he  entered  the  southern  gates  of  the  city.  He 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO  PARIS          19 

had  been  walking  since  early  morning,  yet  when 
once  in  the  town  he  was  not  conscious  of  any 
fatigue. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  there  was  an  unwonted 
excitement  in  the  air,  and  the  faces  of  many  people 
in  the  crowded  streets  wore  an  anxious  or  an  ex 
pectant  look.  Several  times  he  was  on  the  point 
of  stopping  some  passer-by  to  ask  if  there  was  any 
event  of  unusual  importance  taking  place,  but  the 
fear  of  being  thought  ignorant  of  city  ways  deterred 
him.  So  he  wandered  about  the  streets  in  search 
of  some  cheap  and  clean  lodging  suitable  to  the 
size  of  his  purse,  where  he  could  be  comfortably 
housed  until  his  plans  for  the  future  matured. 
He  went  through  narrow,  ill-smelling  streets,  where 
strange-looking  faces  peered  at  him  curiously  from 
low  wine-shops.  Thence  he  wandered  into  the 
neighborhood  of  beautiful  gardens,  where  he  mar 
veled  at  the  splendid  buildings,  any  one  of  which 
he  fancied  might  be  the  home  of  the  Marquis  de 
St.  Hilaire.  Finally,  he  came  upon  a  number  of 
people  streaming  through  an  arcade  under  some 
handsome  buildings.  Judging  that  something  of 
unusual  interest  was  going  on  there,  and  being 
moved  by  curiosity,  he  pushed  his  way  in  with  the 
rest,  and  found  himself  in  a  quadrangle  of  build 
ings  enclosing  a  garden.  This  garden  was  filled 
with  a  dense  crowd.  Turning  to  a  man  at  his 
elbow,  he  asked  the  reason  of  such  an  assemblage. 

"  The  king  has  dismissed  Necker,"  was  the 
reply,  "  and  the  people  are  angry." 

"I  should  think   they  might  well  be  angry," 


20  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

replied  Tournay,  who  admired  the  popular  minis 
ter  of  finance.  "  Did  the  king  send  away  such  a 
great  man  without  cause  ?  " 

"  I  know  not  what  cause  was  assigned,  I  do  not 
concern  myself  much  with  such  affairs,  but  I  know 
the  people  are  very  wroth  and  there  has  been  much 
talk  of  violence.  Some  blood  has  been  shed.  The 
German  regiments  fired  once  or  twice  upon  a  mob 
that  would  not  disperse." 

"  The  villainous  foreign  regiments !  "  said  Tour- 
nay.  "  Why  must  we  have  these  mercenary  troops 
quartered  in  our  city?"  He  had  been  in  the  city 
but  a  few  hours,  but  in  his  indignation  he  already 
referred  to  Paris  as  "our  city." 

"  The  native  troops  would  not  fire  when  ordered, 
and  were  hurried  back  to  the  barracks  by  their 
officers.  Worse  may  come  of  it.  There  is  much 
speech-making  and  turmoil ;  I  am  going  home  to 
keep  out  of  the  trouble ;  "  and  the  stranger  hurried 
away. 

Tournay  elbowed  through  the  crowd.  Standing 
upon  a  table  under  one  of  the  spreading  trees,  a 
young  man  was  speaking  earnestly  to  an  excited 
group  of  listeners  that  grew  larger  every  moment. 
Tournay  pressed  near  enough  to  hear  what  he  was 
saying. 

He  was  tall  and  slender,  with  dark  waving  hair 
and  the  face  of  a  poet.  He  spoke  with  an  impas 
sioned  eloquence  that  moved  his  hearers  mightily, 
bringing  forth  acclamation  after  acclamation  from 
the  crowd.  He  denounced  tyranny  and  exalted 
liberty  till  young  Tournay's  blood  surged  through 


HOW  TOURNAY  CAME  TO   PARIS  21 

his  veins  like  fire.  He  had  thought  all  this  him 
self,  unable  to  give  it  expression;  but  here  was 
a  man  who  touched  the  very  note  that  he  him 
self  would  have  sounded,  touched  the  same  chord 
in  the  heart  of  every  man  who  heard  his  voice, 
and  by  some  subtle  power  communicated  the  thrill 
to  those  outside  the  circle  till  the  crowd  in  the  gar 
den  was  drunk  with  excitement. 

"  Citizens,"  cried  the  young  man,  "  the  exile  of 
Necker  is  the  signal  for  a  St.  Bartholomew  of 
patriots.  The  foreign  regiments  are  about  to 
march  upon  us  to  cut  our  throats.  To  arms !  Be 
hold  the  rallying  sign."  And  stretching  up  his 
arm  he  plucked  a  green  leaf  from  the  branch  above 
his  head  and  put  it  in  his  hat. 

The  next  instant  the  trees  were  almost  denuded 
of  their  leaves.  Tournay,  with  a  green  sprig  in 
his  hat,  swung  his  hat  in  the  air,  and  cried,  "  To 
arms  —  down  with  the  foreign  regiments  —  Vive 
Necker!" 

He  struggled  to  where  the  orator  was  being  car 
ried  off  on  men's  shoulders.  "  What  is  it  ?  "  he 
said,  in  his  excitement  seizing  the  young  man  by 
the  coat,  —  "  what  is  it  that  we  are  to  do  ?  " 

"  Procure  arms.  Watch  and  wait,  —  and  then 
do  as  other  patriots  do,"  was  the  reply. 

The  crowd  surged  closer  about  him.  The  coat 
gave  way,  and  Tournay  was  left  with  a  piece  of  the 
cloth  in  his  hand.  Waving  it  in  the  air  with  the 
cry  of  "  Patriots,  to  arms  !  "  he  was  forced  onward 
by  the  crowd. 


CHAPTER   II 

A   LITTLE   BREAKFAST   AT   ST.    HILAIRE'S 

THE  Marquis  Jean  Raphael  de  St.  Hilaire  was 
giving  a  breakfast-party.  It  was  not  one  of  those 
large  affairs  for  which  the  marquis  was  noted, 
where  a  hundred  guests  would  sit  down  in  his 
large  salon  to  a  repast  costing  the  lavish  young 
nobleman  a  princely  sum.  This  being  merely  the 
occasion  of  a  modest  little  dejeuner,  the  covers 
were  laid  in  the  marquis's  morning  cabinet  on  the 
second  floor,  which  was  more  suitable  for  such  an 
informal  meal. 

There  were  present  around  the  table  the  Count 
and  Countess  d' Arlincourt ;  the  old  Chevalier  de 
Creux  ;  the  witty  Madame  Diane  de  Re*mur ;  the 
Count  de  Blois,  dressed  in  the  very  latest  and  most 
exact  fashion  ;  and  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville,  with 
the  pallor  of  recent  illness  on  his  face.  At  the 
lower  end  of  the  board  sat  a  young  poet  who  was 
riding  on  his  first  wave  of  popularity ;  and  next  to 
him  was  a  philosopher. 

The  guests,  having  finished  the  dessert,  were 
lingering  over  a  choice  vintage  from  the  marquis's 
cellar. 

The  host,  leaning  back  in  his  chair  with  half- 
closed  eyes,  listened  carelessly  to  the  hum  of  con- 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    23 

versation  while  he  toyed  with  a  few  sugared  al 
monds. 

"And  so  you  think,  chevalier,"  said  the  Count 
ess  d'Arlincourt  in  reply  to  a  remark  by  the  old 
nobleman,  "  that  our  troublesome  times  are  not  yet 
over?" 

"  Not  yet,  my  dear  countess,  nor  will  they  be 
over  for  a  long  time  to  come." 

"  Oh,  how  pessimistic  you  are,  chevalier ;  for 
my  part  I  do  not  see  how  affairs  can  be  worse 
than  they  have  been  for  the  last  year." 

"  For  a  longer  period  than  that,"  remarked  her 
husband,  the  Count  d'Arlincourt. 

"  Well,  I  remember  particularly,  it  was  a  year 
ago  when  you  first  told  me  that  you  could  not  af 
ford  to  make  me  a  present  of  a  diamond  crescent 
to  wear  in  my  hair  at  the  Duchess  de  Montmo- 
renci's  fancy  dress-ball.  You  had  never  used  that 
word  to  me  before." 

"  You  have  been  extremely  fortunate,"  said  the 
Chevalier  de  Creux,  turning  a  pair  of  small,  bright 
eyes  upon  the  countess  and  speaking  with  just  the 
slightest  accent  of  sarcasm.  "  Even  longer  ago 
than  a  year,  many  persons  were  in  need  of  other 
necessities  than  diamonds." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know,"  interrupted  the  countess 
hastily,  anxious  to  show  that  sfce  was  not  as  igno 
rant  as  the  chevalier's  tone  implied,  —  "  bread. 
Why  don't  they  give  the  people  enough  bread? 
It  is  a  very  simple  demand,  and  things  would  then 
be  well." 

"  My  dear  child,"  put  in  Madame  de  R4mur, 


24  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  it  would  do  no  good  to  give  them  bread  to-day ; 
they  would  be  hungry  again  to-morrow.  The 
trouble  is  with  the  finances.  When  they  are  set 
right  everything  will  go  well ;  and  the  people  can 
buy  all  the  bread  they  want,  and  you  can  have 
your  diamond  crescent,"  and  the  speaker  smiled 
at  the  chevalier  and  shrugged  her  white  shoulders. 

"  Yes,  but,"  persisted  the  countess,  raising  her 
pretty  eyebrows,  "  when  will  the  finances  be  set 
right?  The  people  cannot  go  forever  without 
bread." 

"  Nor  can  women  go  forever  without  diamonds," 
laughed  Madame  de  Remur. 

"  "Women  with  your  eyes,  fair  Diane,  have  no 
need  of  other  diamonds,"  said  the  Marquis  de  St. 
Hilaire  debonairely.  The  lady  smiled  graciously  at 
the  compliment.  She  was  a  young  and  attractive 
widow  and  she  looked  at  St.  Hilaire  not  unkindly. 

"  We  have  frequently  had  financial  crises  in  the 
past,"  said  d'Arlincourt,  "  and  gotten  safely  over 
them ;  and  so  we  should  to-day,  were  it  not  for 
the  host  of  philosophical  writers  who  have  broken 
loose;  who  call  the  people's  attention  to  their 
ills,  and  foment  trouble  where  there  is  none.  Of 
course  you  will  understand  that  I  make  the  usual 
exception  as  to  present  company,"  he  added,  bow 
ing  slightly  to  the  philosopher.  But  the  latter 
seemed  lost  in  thought  and  did  not  appear  to  hear 
the  count's  remark.  The  poet  took  up  the  conver 
sation  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Should  we  not  look  to  these  very  men,  these 
philosophers,  these  encyclopaedists,  to  point  the 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    25 

way  out  of  the  difficulty?"  and  he  turned  from 
one  to  the  other  with  a  shrug. 

"  Bah,  no  !  They  are  the  very  ones  to  blame,  I 
tell  you,"  repeated  d'Arlincourt. 

"  My  dear  count,"  cried  Madame  d'Arlincourt, 
"  I  cannot  permit  you  to  speak  slightingly  of  our 
philosophers.  They  are  all  the  fashion  now.  The 
door  of  every  salon  in  Paris  is  open  to  them. 
The  other  night,  at  a  great  reception  given  by  the 
Duchess  de  Montmoreiici,  half  the  invited  guests 
were  philosophers,  poets,  encyclopaedists.  They 
say  that  even  some  of  the  nobility  were  overlooked 
in  order  to  make  room  for  the  men  of  letters." 

The  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire  threw  a  small  cake 
to  the  spaniel  that  sat  on  its  haunches  begging  for 
it. 

"  We  cannot  very  well  overlook  this  new  order 
of  nobility  of  the  ink-and-paper  that  has  exerted 
such  an  influence  during  the  last  generation,"  he 
said  carelessly. 

"  I  should  not  overlook  them  if  I  had  my  way," 
cried  the  Count  d'Arlincourt.  "  I  should  lock 
them  safely  up  in  the  Bastille." 

"  Oh !  "  cried  the  ladies  in  one  breath ;  "  bar 
barian  ! " 

"These  men  are  doubtless  responsible  for  the 
inflamed  state  of  the  public  mind,"  said  St.  Hi 
laire,  again  taking  up  the  conversation. 

"  Of  course  they  are,"  agreed  the  count. 

"  And  so  are  Calonne  and  Brienne,"  continued 
the  marquis.  "  They  mismanaged  affairs  during 
their  terms  of  office." 


26  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Here  the  philosopher  smiled  an  assent. 

"  But  the  blame  rests  more  heavily  upon  other 
shoulders  than  those  of  scribbling  writers  or  cor 
rupt  officials,"  and  the  marquis  paused  to  look 
around  the  table. 

"  I  am  all  attention,"  cried  the  Countess  d'Ar- 
lincourt,  prepared  for  something  amusing.  "  Upon 
whom  does  it  rest  ?  " 

"  Upon  the  nobility  themselves,"  answered  St. 
Hilaire. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence  ;  then  came  a 
storm  of  protests  from  all  sides,  only  the  chevalier 
and  the  philosopher  making  no  audible  reply, 
although  the  latter  said  to  himself :  — 

"  You  are  right,  monsieur  le  marquis." 

"  St.  Hilaire  is  in  one  of  his  mad  fits,"  de  Lache- 
ville  exclaimed. 

"  If  it  were  not  for  the  nobility  there  would  be 
no  poetry,  no  wit,"  murmured  the  poet. 

"  The  nobility  is  the  mainstay  of  the  throne,  the 
vitality  of  the  country,"  said  d'Arlincourt. 

"  What  have  we  done  ? "  cried  the  ladies  in 
concert.  "  We  ask  for  nothing  better  than  to 
have  everybody  contented  and  happy."  And  they 
shrugged  their  pretty  white  shoulders  as  if  to 
throw  off  the  burden  that  St.  Hilaire  had  placed 
there. 

"  Look  at  me,"  exclaimed  St.  Hilaire,  rising  and 
speaking  with  an  animation  he  had  not  shown 
before.  He  was  a  man  of  twenty-five  with  a  face 
so  handsome  that  dissipation  had  not  been  able  to 
mar  its  beauty.  "  I  am  a  type  of  my  class." 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    27 

"  An  honor  to  it,"  said  the  poet. 

"  Thank  you ;  then  you  will  agree  that  the  cap 
which  I  put  on  will  fit  other  heads  as  well.  I 
have  wasted  two  fortunes." 

"  St.  Hilaire  is  in  one  of  his  remorseful  moods," 
whispered  de  Lacheville  in  the  ear  of  Madame  de 
Remur. 

"  I  have  spent  them  in  riotous  living  with  men 
like  myself."  Here  he  looked  at  de  Lacheville. 

"  I  feel  deeply  honored,  my  dear  marquis,"  said 
the  latter,  bowing. 

"  When  I  wanted  more  money  I  knew  where  to 
get  it." 

"  Happy  fellow,"  called  out  de  Lacheville  with 
a  laugh. 

"  I  went  to  the  steward  who  managed  my  estates. 
I  have  estates,  or  rather  had  them,  for  they  are 
now  mortgaged  to  the  last  notch,  in  Normandy, 
Picardy,  Auvergne  and  Poitou  —  I  would  say  to 
my  steward,  4 1  need  more  money.'  " 

" '  Very  well,  monsieur  le  marquis,  but  I  must 
put  on  the  screws  a  little  to  get  it.' 

" '  Put  on  a  dozen  if  you  like,  but  get  me  the 
funds.' 

"  4  It  shall  be  done,  monsieur  le  marquis.' 

"Again  and  again  I  went  to  him  for  money. 
He  always  responded  in  the  same  manner,  but 
each  time  the  screws  had  to  be  turned  a  little 
tighter.  Do  you  suppose  my  peasants  love  me  for 
that  ?  No,  they  hate  me  just  as  yours  hate  you, 
de  Lacheville,  and  yours  hate  you,  d'Arlincourt." 
De  Lacheville  laughed,  and  the  count  lifted  up  his 


28  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

hand  in  denial.  "  I  knew  that  the  day  of  reckon 
ing  would  come,"  St.  Hilaire  went  on.  "Every 
time  I  went  to  Monsieur  Rignot,  my  steward, 
every  time  he  put  on  the  screws  at  my  request,  I 
knew  it  was  bringing  us  nearer  the  final  smash." 

"  Us !  "  repeated  d'Arlincourt,  with  a  gesture 
of  impatience. 

"  Yes,  us,"  said  St.  Hilaire  ;  "  we  are  all  in  the 
same  boat,  but  we  have  all  done  the  same  thing  in 
a  greater  or  less  degree.  We  shall  all  have  to  pay 
the  penalty." 

"There  is  where  I  differ  with  you,  my  dear 
marquis,"  said  the  Count  d'Arlincourt ;  "  I  am 
willing  to  take  what  responsibility  falls  to  me  by 
right,  but  I  emphatically  refuse  to  pay  the  penalty 
of  your  follies." 

"My  follies  are  but  those  of  my  class.  You 
may  have  been  an  exception  yourself,  d'Arlin 
court,  but  that  will  not  save  you." 

"  What  penalties  must  we  pay  ?  Save  him  from 
what?  "  demanded  the  pretty  countess,  looking  at 
St.  Hilaire  with  her  large  blue  eyes. 

"  From  the  revolution,"  was  the  answer.  There 
was  a  general  exclamation  of  surprise.  D'Arlin 
court  took  up  the  word. 

"  Like  all  men  given  to  excess,  —  pardon  the 
remark,  marquis,  but  you  have  yourself  admitted 
it,  —  you  exaggerate  the  present  unquiet  state  of 
affairs.  The  people  will  not  revolt.  They  have 
no  real  cause.  If  you  had  made  such  a  statement 
twenty  years  ago  during  the  ascendency  of  the  in 
famous  du  Barry  I  might  not  have  contradicted 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    29 

you.  But  now  the  people  as  a  mass  are  loyal. 
They  love  their  king." 

"  I  still  affirm,"  said  St.  Hilaire,  "that  the  time 
is  ripe  for  a  revolution.  Sooner  or  later  it  must 
come." 

The  chevalier  from  the  further  end  of  the  table 
said  quietly ;  "  It  has  come." 

"Surely  you  are  not  serious,"  said  d'Arlin- 
court,  turning  to  the  chevalier,  "  in  calling  the 
disturbance  of  the  past  few  days  a  revolution. 
Why,  I  have  seen  more  serious  revolts  than  this 
blow  into  nothing.  Our  Paris  mob  is  a  fickle 
creature,  demanding  blood  one  moment  and  the 
next  moment  throwing  up  its  cap  with  delight  if 
you  show  it  a  colored  picture." 

"  The  disturbance  of  to-day  will  become  great 
enough  to  shake  France  to  its  centre,"  said  the 
chevalier. 

"  One  would  think  that  you  possessed  the  gift  of 
second  sight,"  laughed  de  Lacheville. 

"  I  do,"  replied  the  old  man  impressively. 

"  Give  us  an  example  of  it,  then,"  demanded 
d'Arlincourt.  "  What  part  am  I  to  take  in  the 
new  revolution  ?  " 

"  I  see  behind  you,  my  dear  d'Arlincourt," 
replied  the  chevalier,  leaning  back  in  his  chair 
and  looking  in  the  count's  direction  through  half- 
closed  eyelids,  "  the  shadow  of  a  scaffold." 

Unwittingly  the  count  turned  with  a  start,  to 
see  Blaise  standing  behind  him  in  the  act  of  filling 
his  glass  with  wine.  There  was  a  general  laugh. 

"  Madame    de    R&nur    will    bare    her    white 


30  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

shoulders  to  the  rude  grasp  of  the  executioner. 
De  Lacheville  will  escape.  No,  he  will  not. 
He  will  die  by  his  own  hand  to  cheat  the  scaf 
fold." 

"And  I,"  interrupted  the  Countess  d'Arlin- 
court,  "  shall  I  share  their  fate  ?  " 

The  chevalier  looked  at  her  with  a  peculiar 
expression  in  his  eyes.  "  My  sight  fails  here,"  he 
said.  "  I  cannot  foretell  your  fate.  Yet  you  may 
live ;  your  beauty  should  save  you.  People  do  not 
kill  those  who  please  them ;  those  who  bore  them 
are  less  fortunate."  And  he  turned  his  snapping 
brown  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  gentle  poet  and 
the  venerable  philosopher. 

"  St.  Hilaire's  sudden  and  great  interest  in  the 
people's  welfare  may  prove  of  service  to  him," 
remarked  d'Arlincourt  significantly. 

"It  will  not  save  him,"  replied  the  chevalier. 
"He  will  finally  come  to  the  same  end.  The 
shadow  of  the  scaffold  is  behind  him  also." 

St.  Hilaire  laughed  as  he  cracked  an  almond. 
"  Though  I  may  sympathize  somewhat  with  a 
people  who  have  been  oppressed  and  robbed,  I 
should  feel  unhappy  indeed  to  be  left  out  in  the 
cold  when  so  many  of  the  illustrious  had  gone 
before.  But  you  have  overlooked  yourself.  That 
is  like  you,  chevalier,  unselfish  to  the  last." 

"  Oh,  I  am  too  old  to  be  of  importance ;  I  shall 
die  of  gout,"  said  the  old  nobleman. 

"  You  have  disposed  of  us  effectually,"  said  the 
poet,  "  and  I  shall  be  greatly  honored  at  being 
permitted  to  leave  this  world  in  such  good  com- 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    31 

pany.  But  may  I  ask,  are  we  to  be  the  sole  victims 
of  your  revolution  ?  " 

"  Far  from  it,"  answered  the  old  chevalier,  clos 
ing  his  eyes  and  speaking  in  an  abstracted  manner, 
as  if  talking  to  himself,  while  his  friends  listened 
in  rapt  attention,  half  inclined  to  smile  at  the 
affair  as  at  a  joke,  and  yet  so  serious  was  he  that 
they  could  not  escape  the  influence  of  his  serious 
ness. 

"  I  can  see,"  he  continued,  "  a  long  line  of  the 
most  illustrious  in  France.  They  are  passing 
onward  to  the  block.  They  are  princes  of  the 
blood ;  aye,  even  the  king's  head  shall  fall." 

"  Enough ! "  cried  out  the  voice  of  d'Arlin- 
court,  above  the  general  exclamations  of  horror 
that  the  chevalier's  pretended  vision  called  forth. 
"  You  overstep  the  line,  Chevalier  de  Creux.  I 
do  not  object  to  a  pleasantry,  but  when  you  go  so 
far  as  to  predict  the  execution  of  the  king  you 
carry  a  jest  too  far.  It  is  time  to  call  a  halt." 

" But  was  it  a  jest? "  asked  the  chevalier  dryly. 

"  A  very  poor  one,"  said  de  Lacheville. 

"  My  dear  friend,"  said  the  chevalier  in  his 
blandest  tone,  "  I  am  not  predicting  what  I  should 
like  to  have  take  place.  Not  what  ought  to  be, 
but  what  will  be." 

The  count  scowled  and  de  Lacheville  turned 
away  with  a  shrug  and  began  a  conversation  with 
Madame  de  R6mur. 

"  We  all  know  that  the  chevalier  is  a  merry 
gentleman,  yet  no  jester,"  said  St.  Hilaire. 
"  What  will  be,  will  be.  I,  for  one,  am  willing 


32  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

to  drink  a  toast  to  the  chevalier's  revolution. 
Blaise,  bring  out  some  of  that  wine  I  received 
from  the  Count  de  Beaujeu.  I  lost  fifty  thousand 
livres  to  him  the  night  he  made  me  a  present  of 
this  wine ;  it  will  be  like  drinking  liquid  gold." 

Blaise  filled  the  glasses  amid  general  silence. 

St.  Hilaire  rose  to  his  feet,  holding  his  wine 
glass  above  his  head. 

"  What,  my  friends,  you  are  not  afraid  ?  "  he 
exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  surprise,  looking  about  the 
table  where  only  the  chevalier  and  the  philoso 
pher  had  followed  his  example.  "Is  it  possible 
you  have  taken  the  chevalier's  visions  so  much  to 
heart?" 

They  all  rose  from  their  places,  ashamed  to  have 
it  thought  that  they  had  taken  in  too  serious  a 
vein  the  little  comedy  played  by  the  chevalier. 

"  Any  excuse  to  drink  such  wine  as  this,"  said 
de  Lacheville,  with  a  forced  laugh. 

"  We  drink  to  the  revolution !  "  cried  St.  Hi 
laire  in  his  reckless  manner  —  and  he  touched 
glasses  with  Madame  de  Re"mur  and  then  with  the 
Countess  d'Arlincourt.  As  the  glasses  clinked 
about  the  table,  a  heavy  booming  sound  fell  upon 
the  ears  of  the  revelers. 

"  What  noise  is  that  ?  "  cried  the  countess  ner 
vously.  They  stopped  to  listen,  holding  their 
glasses  aloft.  The  booming  ceased,  then  followed 
a  roar  like  that  of  the  angry  surf  beating  upon  a 
rockbound  shore. 

"  It  is  the  chevalier's  revolution,"  exclaimed 
Madame  de  R&nur. 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    33 

"  Are  we  to  be  frightened  from  drinking  our 
toast  by  a  little  noise  ?  "  cried  St.  Hilaire.  "  What 
if  it  be  the  revolution?  Let  us  drink  to  it. 
Come !  "  and  they  drained  their  glasses  to  the  ac 
companiment  of  what  sounded  like  a  volley  of 
musketry. 

The  ladies  looked  pale  and  were  glad  to  quit  the 
table  for  the  salon,  where  they  were  joined  by  the 
poet  and  the  philosopher,  leaving  the  others  still 
at  their  wine. 

The  Marquis  de  Lacheville  took  another  glass, 
and  then  a  third. 

"  You  had  best  be  careful  how  you  heat  your 
blood  with  this  rich  wine,  de  Lacheville,  while  that 
wound  in  your  side  is  scarcely  healed,"  remarked 
d'Arlincourt. 

"  Confound  the  wound,  and  curse  the  young 
villain  who  gave  it  me,'*  growled  de  Lacheville. 
"  I  have  been  forced  to  lead  the  life  of  an  anchor 
ite  for  the  past  fortnight ;  but  such  nectar  as  this 
cannot  inflame,  it  only  soothes,"  and  he  reached 
out  his  hand  toward  the  decanter.  As  he  did  so, 
the  sound  of  guns  reverberated  again  through  the 
room,  making  the  windows  rattle  and  jarring  the 
dishes  on  the  table.  The  ladies  in  the  adjoining 
room  cried  out  in  alarm,  and  d'Arlincourt  rose 
and  went  to  reassure  them. 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  said  the  chevalier,  and  he 
joined  the  count. 

De  Lacheville  threw  his  napkin  down  upon  the 
spot  of  wine  that  had  splashed  from  his  upraised 
glass  upon  the  damask  cloth. 


34  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  The  devil  take  them !  "  he  cried  petulantly ; 
then  filling  his  glass  again  with  an  air  of  bra 
vado,  "  will  they  not  permit  a  man  to  breakfast  in 

999 
. 

"  Your  nerves  must  be  badly  shaken,  de  Lache- 
ville,  if  you  permit  such  a  slight  thing  to  disturb 
you,"  laughed  St.  Hilaire,  filling  a  glass  to  the 
brim. 

D'Arlincourt  entered  from  the  next  room  hur 
riedly.  "I  am  going  to  see  what  all  this  firing 
means,"  he  said.  "Will  you  accompany  me, 
gentlemen  ?  " 

"  I  make  it  a  point  never  to  seek  for  news  or 
excitement,  but  rather  allow  them  to  come  to  me," 
said  St.  Hilaire  leisurely.  "  You  would  better  sit 
down  and  let  me  send  a  servant  to  ascertain  the 
cause  of  this  turmoil." 

"  Why  leave  the  house  in  search  of  truth  when 
we  have  with  us  an  oracle  in  the  shape  of  the 
chevalier?"  interposed  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville. 

"  I  shall  be  able  to  bring  a  more  accurate  ac 
count,"  replied  d'Arlincourt  with  an  impatient 
shrug. 

"  As  you  will,"  said  St.  Hilaire.  "  Blaise,  give 
the  Count  d'Arlincourt  his  hat  and  sword.  Are 
you  quite  sure  you  do  not  want  some  of  my  lack 
eys  to  accompany  you?"  he  asked. 

D'Arlincourt  declined  the  offer  and  hastily  left 
the  room. 

The  two  marquises  were  left  in  possession  of 
the  dining-room  and  the  wine.  They  both  contin 
ued  to  drink,  each  after  his  own  fashion.  With 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    35 

each  successive  glass,  de  Lacheville  became  louder 
in  voice  and  more  boastful,  while  as  St.  Hilaire 
sipped  his  wine,  he  became  quieter  and  more  in 
different. 

Within  ten  minutes  d'Arlincourt  returned  to 
them,  his  face  betraying  great  excitement. 

"  A  mob  has  attacked  and  captured  the  Bastille. 
The  multitude  is  surging  through  the  streets. 
They  will  pass  before  this  very  door." 

"  It  is  impossible  that  they  could  have  taken  the 
Bastille !  "  exclaimed  de  Lacheville,  rising  to  his 
feet  and  steadying  himself  by  holding  to  the  back 
of  his  chair. 

"There  are  thirty  thousand  of  them,"  replied 
d'Arlincourt,  "and  through  some  treachery  they 
have  obtained  arms.  In  order  to  save  bloodshed 
Governor  Delaunay  surrendered  the  fortress  on 
receiving  the  promise  of  the  insurgents  that  the 
lives  of  all  its  defenders  should  be  spared.  They 
are  now  dragging  him  through  the  streets,  crying 
out  for  his  blood.  The  man  was  mad  to  trust  the 
word  of  such  a  rabble." 

"  Let  us  go  into  the  salon,"  remarked  St.  Hilaire 
quietly.  "  There  we  can  reassure  the  ladies  and 
also  view  this  interesting  spectacle." 

The  three  gentlemen  entered  the  room  which 
fronted  upon  the  street,  d'Arlincourt  with  com 
pressed  lips  and  flashing  eyes;  de  Lacheville,  un 
steady  of  gait  and  with  wine-flushed  face,  murmur 
ing  maledictions  against  the  beast  multitude ;  and 
St.  Hilaire,  cool  and  calm  as  was  his  wont. 

In  the  salon  they  found  the  chevalier  entertain- 


36  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

ing  Madame  de  Ke*mur  with  an  anecdote  which 
was  the  occasion  of  much  laughter  on  her  part. 

The  poet  was  reciting  some  of  his  own  verses  to 
the  countess,  while  the  philosopher  was  asleep  in 
an  armchair. 

"  The  crowd  have  torn  down  the  Bastille,"  cried 
de  Lacheville,  speaking  in  a  thick  voice,  "  and 
they  are  now  coming  down  this  street,  seeking 
whom  they  can  devour." 

The  ladies  cried  out  in  terror. 

"  Marquis,  you  have  interrupted  one  of  my  best 
stories,"  said  the  chevalier  petulantly. 

"  But,  chevalier,  the  mob  have  taken  the  Bas 
tille." 

"  Could  n't  you  have  allowed  them  two  minutes 
more  to  complete  their  work  ?  However,  what  you 
say  is  very  interesting,  though  it  does  not  surprise 
me.  I  have  been  expecting  it." 

"You  forget  that  the  chevalier  is  gifted  with 
second  sight,"  said  the  count,  with  a  slight  sneer. 

"  I  have  been  expecting  it  for  some  time,"  con 
tinued  the  chevalier,  "though  what  they  wanted 
to  take  it  for,  I  cannot  imagine.  If  they  should 
attack  the  Hotel  de  Ville  or  the  Louvre,  or  march 
against  Versailles,  I  could  understand  it." 

Madame  de  Remur  and  the  philosopher,  who 
had  awakened  from  his  nap,  had  approached  to 
hear  the  news  ;  and  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville  re 
peated  it  to  them  as  if  he  had  been  an  eye-witness 
of  the  whole  affair. 

44  For  my  part,"  he  said  in  conclusion,  "  I  think 
this  disturbance  amounts  to  very  little ;  the  Baron 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    37 

de  Besneval  has  but  to  give  the  order  to  his  troops, 
and  the  valiant  mob  will  disperse  like  chaff.  I 
have  seen  such  fellows  run  before  this.  It  is 
amusing  to  see  what  a  steel  bayonet  will  do  toward 
accelerating  the  pace  of  the  canaille." 

"  They  say  that  the  French  Guards  are  not 
loyal,"  remarked  the  chevalier. 

"  The  French  Guards  be  hanged  !  "  shouted  the 
Marquis  de  Lachevilla  hotly.  "  I  would  not  trust 
them  further  than  the  canaille  itself;  they  are  a 
white-livered  lot  in  spite  of  their  gaudy  uniforms. 
Thank  heaven,  we  have  other  troops  who  are  good 
and  loyal,  and  who  will  put  down  these  disorders 
in  a  trice." 

"  We  shall  look  to  you,  then,  marquis,"  said  the 
cavalier,  "  to  restore  peace  and  quiet  for  us  at 
once." 

"I  would  not  soil  my  hands  with  such  dirt," 
replied  de  Lacheville  haughtily,  and  scowling  at 
what  he  thought  was  a  disposition  on  the  part  of 
the  chevalier  to  ridicule  him. 

"  Is  there  really  danger  ?  "  inquired  the  Countess 
d'Arlincourt  of  her  husband. 

"  The  situation  is  grave,  but  I  hardly  think 
there  is  great  cause  for  alarm,"  he  answered. 
"  The  king  has  too  many  loyal  subjects  to  per 
mit  anarchy  and  riot  to  exist  for  any  length  of 
time." 

"  Let  us  go  out  upon  the  balcony,"  interrupted 
St.  Hilaire  ;  "  the  show  is  about  to  pass  under  our 
windows."  He  threw  open  the  windows  and  ush 
ered  his  friends  out  upon  the  balcony  with  a  ges- 


38  ROBERT  TOURNAY. 

ture  as  if  he  were  bidding  them  welcome  to  his 
box  at  the  opera. 

Down  the  street,  with  a  roar  that  drowned  all 
other  sounds,  came  the  surging  mass  like  a  torrent 
that  had  burst  its  bounds.  In  the  front  ranks, 
carried  on  the  shoulders  of  a  dozen,  were  two  men 
dressed  in  the  uniform  of  the  French  Guards. 
They  were  greeted  on  all  sides  with  acclamations. 

"  See  how  the  Guards  fraternize  with  the  mob," 
said  de  Lacheville.  "  Down  with  the  French 
Guards  !  Down  with  the  rabble  !  "  he  cried  in  his 
excitement,  shaking  his  fist  over  the  railing. 

St.  Hilaire  gripped  his  arm.  "  I  don't  care 
how  much  you  expose  your  own  life,  but  as  I  do 
not  wish  to  bring  insult  or  danger  upon  the  ladies 
under  my  roof,  perhaps  you  had  better  refrain 
from  expressing  your  opinions  for  the  present." 

"  Do  you  think  they  would  dare  attack  this 
house  ?  "  demanded  de  Lacheville,  turning  pale. 

"  Men  who  have  successfully  stormed  a  prison 
are  not  likely  to  hesitate  before  the  walls  of  a 
house,  even  though  it  does  belong  to  a  marquis," 
replied  St.  Hilaire.  "  Look  at  that !  "  he  exclaimed 
suddenly,  pointing  up  the  street.  Then  turning  to 
d'Arlincourt,  he  said,  "  Get  the  ladies  inside  as 
quickly  as  possible."  The  count  had  no  sooner  fol 
lowed  his  directions,  than  along  the  street,  borne 
on  long  poles  on  a  level  with  the  very  eyes  of  those 
on  the  balcony,  appeared  two  heads  dripping  with 
blood. 

"  Dear  me,  whose  are  those  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
chevalier,  adjusting  his  eyeglasses.  "  By  my  soul, 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    39 

it's  poor  Delaunay's  head.  They  have  treated 
him  most  shabbily.  Can  you  make  out  the  other, 
St.  Hilaire  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  marquis,  "  I  was  never  good 
at  recognizing  faces,"  and  he  stepped  to  the  win 
dow  to  reassure  the  ladies  in  the  salon. 

The  chevalier  leaned  over  the  railing  and  called 
out  to  one  of  the  men  in  the  crowd :  — 

"  My  good  fellow,  will  you  have  the  kindness  to 
tell  me  whose  head  they  are  carrying  on  the  second 
pole  ?  " 

The  man,  thus  addressed,  looked  up.  He  was 
tall  and  broad-shouldered,  with  face  browned  from 
exposure  to  the  sun.  With  one  arm  he  supported 
a  member  of  the  French  Guards  who  had  been 
wounded. 

"  Flesselle's,"  he  answered.  "  He  has  betrayed 
the  people  again  and  again.  He  has  received  a 
terrible  punishment." 

The  man  who  had  given  the  chevalier  this  an 
swer  did  not  move  on  immediately,  but  stood  look 
ing  up  at  the  balcony.  The  old  nobleman,  follow 
ing  this  look,  saw  that  it  rested  on  the  Marquis  de 
Lacheville. 

The  latter,  meeting  the  man's  eye  at  the  same 
moment,  recognized  Robert  Tournay.  He  started 
forward  as  if  about  to  speak,  then  noticing  the 
weapon  in  Tournay's  hand  and  remembering  the 
recent  warning  of  St.  Hilaire,  he  checked  himself. 
Neither  spoke,  but  the  marquis  could  not  repress 
a  look  of  hatred,  which  was  answered  by  a  look 
of  defiance  by  Tournay.  Then  the  latter  turned 


40  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

away  with  his  companion  leaning  on  his  shoulder. 
The  crowd  closed  up  and  he  was  soon  lost  to 
sight. 

"  They  have  killed  Flesselle,  the  mayor  of 
Paris,"  said  the  chevalier,  as  St.  Hilaire  joined 
him  a  moment  later.  "  Well,"  he  continued,  as  if 
in  answer  to  St.  Hilaire's  shrug,  "  Flesselle  was  a 
fool,  but  I  am  sorry  for  poor  Delaunay.  Come, 
St.  Hilaire,  let  us  go  in,  the  crowd  is  thinning  out 
now ;  in  a  short  time  the  streets  will  be  passable 
and  I  must  be  going.  I  have  to  thank  you  for  a 
most  enjoyable  day,  marquis." 

"  The  pleasure  has  been  mine,"  replied  the  Mar 
quis  de  St.  Hilaire,  bowing. 

"  Are  you  going  to  the  duchess's  to-night  ?  " 
inquired  the  chevalier. 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  answered  St.  Hilaire,  put 
ting  his  hand  upon  the  window-bar.  "  After  you, 
my  dear  chevalier,"  indicating  the  way  into  the 
salon.  As  he  was  about  to  step  into  the  room  the 
chevalier  turned  and  took  a  final  look  at  the  street. 
The  main  body  of  the  mob  had  passed  and  their 
shouts  were  heard  receding  in  the  distance ;  al 
though  underneath  the  window  were  still  a  num 
ber  of  persons,  coming  and  going  in  restless  ex 
citement. 

"  I  think,  marquis,"  he  said,  with  his  curious 
smile,  "  that  your  friends  need  soap  and  water 
badly." 

"  They  do,  chevalier,"  said  the  other,  returning 
the  smile,  "  and  the  smell  is  sickening.  Come  to 
my  bedroom  ;  I  will  give  you  a  new  perfume." 


A  LITTLE  BREAKFAST  AT  ST.  HILAIRE'S    41 

That  evening,  after  the  departure  of  his  guests, 
the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire  called  in  his  man  of 
affairs. 

"Kignot,"  he  demanded  carelessly,  "have  I  a 
single  estate  that  is  unencumbered  ?  " 

O 

"  Unfortunately  no,  monsieur  le  marquis." 

"  Think  again,  Bignot.  Is  there  not  some  little 
estate  still  intact?  Some  small  farm  heretofore 
overlooked  by  us  ?  " 

"  Not  a  cottage,  monsieur  le  marquis." 

"  What  bills  are  unpaid  ?  " 

"  Some  three  hundred  thousand  livres  are  rather 
pressing." 

"  Is  that  the  sum  total  of  all  my  liabilities  ?  I 
want  a  full  statement  to-night." 

"  You  owe  about  eight  hundred  thousand  francs, 
monsieur  le  marquis." 

"  Pay  them  at  once." 

"  But,  monsieur  le  marquis,  it  will  be  impossi 
ble.  Where,  shall  I  get  the  funds  ?  " 

"You  may  sell  my  furniture,  personal  pro 
perty  "  — 

"  What,  everything,  monsieur  le  marquis  ?  " 

"  Yes,  everything ;  and  after  paying  all  my 
debts,  if  there  is  anything  left,  take  out  a  commis 
sion  for  yourself  and  give  me  the  balance ;  "  and 
then  he  turned  to  the  window  and  looked  out  on 
the  lights  of  the  city  of  Paris,  indicating  that  the 
interview  was  at  an  end.  Rignot  withdrew. 

"Assuredly,"  said  the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire 
with  a  yawn,  "  this  revolution  arrives  in  good  time. 
I  should  soon  have  become  a  beggar." 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  BAKER  AND  HIS  FAMILY 

THE  Count  d'Arlincourt  had  just  left  the  palace 
at  Versailles. 

He  had  been  present  at  the  reception  to  the 
Royal  Flanders  regiment.  He  had  heard  their 
vow  of  fidelity  to  the  king.  He  had  been  among 
the  officers  and  the  nobles  of  the  court  who  had 
trampled  under  foot  the  tricolor  of  Paris  and  de 
corated  their  coats  with  the  white  cockade,  and 
now  he  left  the  royal  presence  with  his  sovereign's 
thanks  and  commendations  ringing  in  his  ears. 

As  he  proceeded  through  the  courtyard  three 
gentlemen  entered  at  the  main  gate.  A  shade  of 
annoyance  passed  over  the  count's  brow  as  he 
recognized  St.  Hilaire  and  two  other  noblemen,  all 
members  of  the  States  General,  and  all  reputed  to 
lean  somewhat  too  radically  toward  the  popular 
side  in  politics.  He  had  hardly  seen  St.  Hilaire 
since  the  breakfast  party  at  the  house  of  the  latter 
three  months  before.  The  toast  of  the  marquis 
and  his  expressed  sympathy  with  revolutionary 
orders  had  caused  a  decided  estrangement. 

Indeed,  St.  Hilaire  and  the  two  noblemen  who 
were  with  him  had  become  alienated  from  their 
order,  and  many  of  their  former  friends  among  the 


THE  BAKER  AND  HIS  FAMILY     43 

nobility  had  refused  to  speak  or  hold  any  relations 
with  them  whatever. 

The  count  could  not  avoid  meeting  them,  but  he 
was  undecided  whether  to  ignore  them  entirely  or 
pass  them  with  such  a  slight  inclination  of  the 
head  as  to  be  equally  cutting. 

The  cordial  bow  of  the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire, 
however,  for  whom  he  had  always  felt  a  peculiar 
and  inexplicable  regard,  caused  him  to  change  his 
mind. 

He  saluted  the  three  gentlemen  politely,  though 
with  a  certain  reserve  of  manner  natural  to  him, 
and  addressed  St.  Hilaire. 

"  A  word  with  you,  marquis,"  he  said,  "  if  I 
may  be  pardoned  for  taking  you  from  these  gen 
tlemen  for  a  few  minutes  ?  " 

St.  Hilaire  turned  to  his  companions  :  "  With 
your  permission,  messieurs,  I  will  join  you  in  five 
minutes  in  the  palace." 

The  gentlemen  bowed  in  assent  and  walked 
toward  the  palace,  leaving  the  count  and  the  mar 
quis  alone  in  the  centre  of  the  court. 

"  You  were  not  present  at  the  reception  in  the 
palace.  We  missed  you  greatly,  marquis,"  the 
former  began,  with  an  attempt  at  cordiality  of 
manner,  having  resolved  to  make  one  last  appeal 
to  his  friend. 

"  Thank '  you,  my  dear  d'Arlincourt,  for  your 
kindness  in  saying  so,"  replied  the  marquis  affa 
bly,  "but  I  must  tell  you  frankly  that  even  if 
affairs  in  the  Assembly  had  not  claimed  my  time, 
other  circumstances  would  have  rendered  my  pre 
sence  at  this  banquet  impossible." 


44  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  The  king,"  continued  d'Arlincourt  quietly, 
"  inquired  for  you  several  times  and  seemed  much 
disturbed  at  your  absence." 

"  I  am  now  on  my  way  to  wait  upon  his  ma 
jesty,"  replied  St.  Hilaire. 

The  count's  face  lighted  up.  "  A  tardy  apology 
is  better  than  none  at  all,  for  I  presume  you  are 
going  to  explain  your  absence." 

"  The  two  gentlemen  who  have  left  us,  and  my 
self,  have  been  sent  by  the  convention  as  a  com 
mittee  to  urge  his  majesty  to  sanction  their  latest 
decrees,  —  the  bill  relating  to  popular  rights," 
replied  St.  Hilaire  quietly. 

"  For  the  love  of  Heaven,  Raphael !  "  burst  out 
the  count,  "  can  it  be  possible  that  you  intend  to 
persist  in  championing  the  popular  cause,  like  the 
Duke  d'Orleans,  or  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette? 
Your  present  position  is  that  of  a  madman.  Come 
back  to  our  side  now.  To-morrow  it  may  be  too 
late." 

"  For  the  life  of  me,  Andre,"  replied  St.  Hilaire 
lightly,  "  I  cannot  tell  you  to-day  what  my  line  of 
action  will  be  to-morrow,  but  in  any  case  I  beg  you 
will  not  compare  me  either  with  the  duke  or  La 
fayette.  I  am  neither  as  dull  as  the  one  nor  as 
virtuous  as  the  other.  Why  not  permit  me  still 
to  resemble  only  the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire  ?  " 

"Then,"  replied  the  count  warmly,  "I  tell  you 
that  as  the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire,  your  duty  to 
the  king  should  have  brought  you  to  the  reception 
in  honor  of  the  Flanders  regiment." 

The  marquis  dropped  his  air  of  levity  suddenly. 


THE  BAKER  AND  HIS  FAMILY  45 

"  Do  you  know,  count,"  he  said  slowly,  "  I  have 
just  come  from  the  Assembly,  where  news  reached 
us  a  little  while  ago  that  a  mob  of  forty  thousand 
was  marching  from  Paris  toward  Versailles." 

The  count  started  with  surprise,  but  betrayed  no 
other  emotion. 

"Is  it  a  fitting  time  to  be  feting  a  regiment 
composed  of  mercenaries  ?  Is  it  a  fitting  time  to 
be  clinking  glasses  and  drinking  toasts  when  forty 
thousand  men  and  women  are  approaching  with 
their  cry  for  bread?  " 

The  count  drew  himself  up  as  he  replied,  — 
"  What  more  fitting  time  could  there  be  for  the 
loyal  nobles  to  gather  about  their  sovereign  than 
in  the  hour  of  danger  ?  I,  for  one,  would  not  let 
the  fear  of  any  Paris  mob  keep  me  from  the  king's 
side  at  such  a  moment." 

St.  Hilaire  flushed  deeply.  "Count  d'Arlin- 
court,"  he  said  quickly,  "  I  pass  over  that  insinua 
tion  because  it  comes  from  an  old  friend.  But 
know  this :  that  I  am  one  of  the  members  of  the 
Assembly  who  have  sworn  to  support  the  consti 
tution  and  enforce  the  rights  of  man.  I  should 
indeed  have  been  false  to  my  trust  had  I  partici 
pated  in  a  fete  to  these  foreigners  where  oaths 
were  openly  made  to  defeat  that  constitution." 

"Our  ideas  of  duty  evidently  differ,"  replied 
the  count  stiffly.  "  My  duty  is  to  my  king." 

"  They  do  differ,"  said  St.  Hilaire.  "  My  first 
allegiance  is  to  the  nation.  Count  d'Arlincourt, 
I  respect  you  and  your  opinions,  but  I  also  have  a 
regard  for  my  oath.  I  have  chosen  my  path  and 
I  shall  follow  it." 


46  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Good-day,  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire,"  said  the 
count,  in  his  usual  cold  manner. 

"Farewell,  Count  d'Arlincourt,"  was  the  po 
lite  rejoinder,  and  raising  his  hat  St.  Hilaire  passed 
onward  in  the  direction  of  the  palace. 

Forty  thousand  men  and  women  were  marching 
from  Paris  to  Versailles.  They  had  forced  a  king 
to  recall  a  banished  minister.  They  had  sacked  a 
prison  fortress,  —  razing  to  the  ground  walls  that 
had  frowned  on  them  for  ages,  wiping  out  in  one 
day  a  landmark  of  tyranny  that  had  been  standing 
there  for  centuries.  Now  they  were  coming  to 
see  their  king  at  his  palace.  They  had  heard  of 
the  banquet  at  Versailles,  given  in  honor  of  the 
royal  Flanders  regiment,  where  wine  had  flowed 
like  water  and  where  food  was  in  abundance.  At 
such  a  banquet,  they  argued,  there  must  be  bread 
enough  for  the  whole  world  ;  and  they  were  coming 
to  get  their  share  of  it. 

Although  it  was  in  the  month  of  October,  the 
sun  was  hot  and  the  road  dusty.  In  the  front 
rank,  amid  all  the  dust  and  sweat  and  noise, 
walked  Robert  Tournay.  He  carried  no  weapon, 
nor  did  he  seek  to  lead ;  but  animated  by  curiosity 
and  by  sympathy,  he  felt  himself  drawn  into  this 
great  heaving  mass  of  people  who  had  decided  to 
correct  these  abuses  themselves,  even  if  to  do  it 
they  had  to  take  the  laws  into  their  own  hands. 

Hearing  a  shout  and  rumble  of  wheels  behind 
him,  Tournay  looked  over  his  shoulder  to  see  a 
cannon  coming  through  the  crowd,  which  parted 
on  each  side  to  let  it  pass,  and  then  closed  up  be- 


THE  BAKER  AND  HIS  FAMILY  47 

hind  it.  This  cannon  was  drawn  along  the  road 
by  a  score  of  men,  whose  bare  feet,  beating  the 
dust,  sent  up  a  pulverous  cloud  that  blew  back 
into  the  faces  of  those  behind  like  smoke. 

Seated  upon  the  gun  carriage,  her  hair  stream 
ing  in  the  wind,  was  a  young  woman  wearing  the 
red  cap  of  liberty,  and  waving  in  her  hand  a  blood- 
red  flag.  The  cannon  stopped  under  the  shade  of 
some  poplar  trees,  and  men  stood  around  it  wiping 
the  perspiration  from  their  foreheads. 

"  A  cheer  for  the  Goddess  of  Liberty,"  cried  a 
voice  in  the  crowd.  A  shout  went  up  that  made 
the  poplars  tremble. 

"  Citizens,"  cried  the  girl,  in  response,  standing 
erect  and  flinging  her  flag  to  the  breeze,  "you 
want  bread !  " 

"  Bread  !  Bread  !  "  was  the  answering  shout. 

"  The  women  of  Paris  will  lead  you  to  it.  Then 
you  shall  help  yourselves." 

"  Show  us  where  it  is  and  we  '11  take  it  fast 
enough,"  was  the  answering  cry. 

"  Where  should  it  be  but  in  the  king's  palace  ? 
There  they  are  feasting  while  the  people  in  Paris 
are  starving.  They  shall  give  the  people  of  their 
bread!" 

"  What  if  they  have  eaten  it  all  ?  "  asked  an 
other  voice. 

"  Then  shall  the  king  bake  more,"  answered  the 
girl  —  "  enough  for  every  one  in  his  kingdom. 
He  shall  be  the  nation's  baker,  and  his  wife  shall 
help  him  knead  the  dough,  and  their  little  boy 
shall  give  out  the  loaves." 


48  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

There  was  a  laugh  at  this  and  cries  of  "  Good  \ 
Good ! " 

"  My  friends,"  she  continued,  taking  off  her  cap 
and  swinging  it  by  the  tassel,  "  this  marching  is 
hot  work,  and  talking  is  dry  business.  Has  any 
one  a  drink  for  La  Demoiselle  Liberte  ?  " 

A  number  of  bottles  were  instantly  proffered 
her. 

"  This  eau  de  vie  puts  new  life  into  one,"  she 
exclaimed,  throwing  back  her  head  and  putting  a 
flask  to  her  lips.  With  an  easy  gesture  she  took 
a  deep  draught  of  the  liquor,  to  the  increasing 
admiration  of  the  bystanders.  On  removing  the 
bottle  from  her  lips,  she  said  with  a  nod  :  "  How 
many  of  you  men  can  beat  that  ?  Here  goes  one 
more."  She  was  on  the  point  of  repeating  the 
act  when  she  caught  sight  of  Tournay,  who  had 
drawn  near  and  stood  by  the  wheel  of  the  truck 
looking  at  her  intently. 

"  Here,  friend,  you  look  at  this  liquor  thirstily ; 
take  a  good  pull  at  it.  You  're  a  likely  youth, 
and  a  sup  of  brandy  will  foster  your  strength ! 
What!  You  will  not  drink?  Bah,  man!  I 
would  not  have  it  said  that  I  was  a  little  boy, 
afraid  of  good  liquor.  But  why  do  you  stare  at 
me  like  that,  without  speaking?  Have  you  no 
tongue  ?  "  Tournay  put  aside  the  proffered  bottle 
and  said :  — 

"  I  stared  at  you  because  I  know  you.  You  are 
Marianne  Froment,  the  miller's  daughter,  who  left 
La  Thierry  a  year  ago.  And  you  should  remember 
Kobert  Tournay." 


THE  BAKER  AND  HIS  FAMILY  49 

The  young  woman  shook  her  head  with  a  de 
cided  gesture. 

"  You  mistake,  friend ;  my  name  is  not  Marianne 
Froment.  I  know  no  miller,  and  have  never  heard 
of  the  place  you  speak  of." 

Tournay  remembered  when  he  had  seen  her  last 
in  the  alley  of  the  park.  He  felt  no  animosity 
toward  her ;  instead  he  felt  compassion  for  the 
silly  girl  whose  head  had  been  turned  by  the  flat 
tery  of  a  nobleman  who  had  already  grown  tired 
of  her. 

"  It  is  you  who  are  mistaken,  Marianne,"  he  re 
plied  quietly,  "  although  when  I  knew  you  at  La 
Thierry,  drinking  strong  liquor  was  not  one  of 
your  practices." 

"  I  am  La  Demoiselle  Liberte,"  replied  the  girl 
defiantly,  throwing  her  brown  curls  back  from  her 
forehead  and  replacing  her  cap.  "  I  have  drunk 
such  liquor  as  this  from  my  cradle.  So  here  's  to 
you  !  May  you  some  day  grow  to  be  a  man." 

Tournay  stayed  the  bottle  in  its  course  to  her 
lips,  and  took  her  hand  in  his. 

"You  are  Marianne  Froment,"  he  persisted, 
"  and  it  would  be  much  better  for  you  to  be  in  the 
quiet  country  of  La  Thierry.  Why  not  go  back  ?  " 

"  If  Marianne  did  go  back,  who  would  speak  to 
her?  Who  among  all  those  who  live  there  would 
take  her  by  the  hand  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Have  I  not  taken  you  by  the  hand  just  now  ?  " 
asked  Tournay. 

"  I  believe  you  would  be  the  only  one,"  she  re 
plied,  stifling  a  sigh.  "  Not  even  my  father  would 


50  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

do  that.  But  you  are  no  longer  at  La  Thierry. 
What  are  you  doing  here,  and  what  sent  you  away 
from  home  ?  Are  you  going  back  ?  " 

Tournay  shook  his  head.  "  There  are  reasons," 
he  replied  slowly,  "  why  I  can  never  return." 

"Neither  can  Marianne  Froment,"  rejoined  the 
girl.  "  Therefore,  compatriot,  drink  with  me  to 
our  future  good  comradeship.  And  pass  the  bot 
tle  to  your  neighbor.  Then  let  us  go  on  together. 
En  avant,  my  friends,"  she  cried  out  in  a  loud 
voice.  "The  sooner  we  start  again  the  earlier 
we  shall  reach  our  bakery.  Follow  the  carriage 
of  La  Demoiselle  Liberte,  and  she  will  lead  you 
to  it." 

A  score  of  brawny  arms  grasped  the  ropes  at 
tached  to  the  truck,  and  with  a  heavy  rattle  the 
cannon  was  drawn  through  the  crowd,  which 
cheered  it  on  its  way. 

The  forty  thousand  swept  into  Versailles  in  an 
overpowering  tide,  finding  nothing  to  stop  their 
triumphant  course. 

The  crowd  choked  up  the  streets  of  the  town, 
filling  the  public  square  and  invading  the  Assem 
bly  chamber. 

The  Assembly,  with  all  the  gravity  and  dignity 
of  its  recent  birth,  rose  to  its  feet  to  greet  as  many 
of  the  Paris  deputation  as  could  crowd  into  the 
room,  steaming  with  the  sweat  and  dust  of  the 
march.  Outside  the  door  another  crowd  remained, 
clamoring  noisily. 

The  president  of  the  Assembly  addressed  them 
in  a  few  words  full  of  dignity.  "  I  have  just 


THE   BAKER  AND  HIS  FAMILY  51 

learned,"  he  said  in  his  quiet  way,  "  that  the  king 
has  been  pleased  to  accord  his  royal  sanction  to 
all  the  articles  of  the  Bill  of  Popular  Rights  which 
was  passed  by  your  Assembly  on  the  5th  of 
August." 

"  Will  that  give  the  people  more  bread  ?  "  asked 
La  Demoiselle,  looking  up  at  Tournay  with  an 
inquiring  expression  in  her  brown  eyes.  Despite 
her  red  cap,  her  swagger,  and  her  boisterous  talk, 
she  was  very  pretty  and  child-like.  As  he  looked 
down  upon  her  standing  by  his  side  her  brown 
head  did  not  reach  his  shoulder. 

"  Whether  it  gives  them  bread  or  not,  it  is  a 
glorious  thing  for  the  people,"  exclaimed  Tournay 
with  enthusiasm. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  demoiselle  yawned. 
"  The  old  fellow  is  too  tiresome,"  she  said ;  "  let  us 
go  to  the  palace  and  get  our  bread." 

Evidently  the  same  thought  moved  the  rest  of 
the  deputation.  They  began  to  file  out,  while  Pre 
sident  Meunier  was  still  addressing  them,  with 
a  restless  scuffling  of  their  feet,  and  a  murmur 
ing  among  themselves,  "  To  the  palace !  To  the 
palace !  " 

The  last  Tournay  saw  of  Demoiselle  Liberte  she 
was  pushing  through  the  crowd  that  made  way  for 
her  right  willingly,  while  she  cried  out :  "  I  will 
show  you  the  bakery,  my  brave  people ;  I  am  now 
on  my  way  to  interview  the  chief  baker." 

The  forty  thousand  got  their  bread.  They  got 
their  bread  and  more.  They  pressed  in  so  close 


52  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

upon  their  monarch,  they  were  so  menacing,  so 
determined  in  their  way,  that  he  promised  to  dis 
miss  his  royal  Flanders  regiment  and  go  Lack  to 
Paris  with  his  beloved  subjects.  And  so  the  hun 
gry,  sullen,  desperate  mob  became  a  shouting, 
happy,  victorious  one.  They  cheered  their  mon 
arch,  who  had  sworn  to  be  a  father  to  his  people ; 
they  cheered  the  royal  family,  even  the  queen ;  but 
most  of  all  they  cheered  the  loaves  of  bread  which 
were  distributed  among  the  eager  multitude. 
Every  shop  in  the  town  was  soon  depleted  of  its 
stock,  and  all  the  bakers  were  working  over-time 
to  supply  the  food. 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  I  would  lead  you  where 
bread  was  plenty  ?  "  demanded  the  Demoiselle  de 
la  Liberte  gayly  of  those  gathered  around.  "  The 
king  is  a  capital  baker ;  we  have  only  to  keep  him 
with  us  and  we  shall  have  food  at  all  times."  And 
she  dipped  her  crust  in  a  cup  of  wine. 

"  We  will  take  our  baker  back  with  us  to  Paris," 
cried  one. 

"  Aye,  and  the  baker's  wife  and  his  little  boy," 
cried  another.  At  this  there  was  a  laugh. 

Tournay,  who  had  aided  in  the  distribution  of 
the  food,  approached  the  group,  relieved  by  the 
thought  that  all  were  satisfied  and  contented,  at 
least  for  the  moment. 

"Ah,  there  is  my  handsome  compatriot,"  ex 
claimed  the  demoiselle  as  soon  as  she  set  eyes 
upon  him.  "  Wilt  thou  join  us  in  our  supper, 
compatriot?"  she  called  out.  She  was  seated 
carelessly  on  the  truck  of  the  gun-carriage,  with  a 


THE  BAKER  AND   HIS   FAMILY  53 

cup  of  wine  in  one  hand  and  a  half-loaf  in  the 
other,  her  face  flushed  with  excitement.  Unlike 
most  of  the  women  who  stood  about  her,  she  was  of 
graceful  form,  with  hands  and  arms  unblackened 
by  hard  toil,  and  the  skin  of  her  throat  soft  and 
white.  She  wore  her .  red  cap  in  a  rakish  manner 
on  the  side  of  her  head,  its  tassel  falling  down  over 
her  forehead  between  her  eyes.  Every  little  while 
she  would  throw  it  back  by  a  quick  toss  of  the 
head. 

Tournay  took  the  cup  from  her  outstretched  hand, 
and  put  it  to  his  lips.  "  Marianne,"  he  said  in  a 
low  tone,  "it  would  be  better  if  you  were  at  home 
among  your  own  people." 

"  Why  do  you  still  call  me  by  that  name  ?  "  she 
asked  in  a  tone  of  suppressed  passion.  "  My  home 
is  Paris.  These  are  my  people.  They  never  ques 
tion  who  I  am  nor  whence  I  came.  There  is  not 
one  in  La  Thierry  who  would  deal  thus  with  me, 
unless  it  be  yourself.  You  took  my  hand  this 
morning.  And  for  that  I  will  take  yours  and  call 
you  my  compatriot."  Then  changing  to  her  usual 
tone  of  gayety,  she  cried  aloud,  "  Come,  compa 
triot  !  This  has  been  a  glorious  day.  The  peo 
ple  of  Paris  have  captured  their  king  and  are  about 
to  take  him  to  Paris.  Give  us  a  toast !  " 

Tournay  felt  that  what  she  had  said  was  true. 
Probably  not  one  of  those  who  had  known  Mari 
anne  in  La  Thierry  would  speak  to  her  should 
she  return  there.  He  turned  to  those  who  stood 
around  the  gun.  "  Friends,"  he  cried,  "  I  drink 
to  freedom !  May  all  among  you  who  love  it  as 


54  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

I  do  live  for  it  and  be  ready  to  die  for  it."  There 
was  a  shout  as  he  turned  away  and  left  them,  and 
over  his  shoulder,  looking  back,  he  saw  the  demoi 
selle  dancing  on  the  cannon,  cup  in  hand. 

He  left  the  crowded  part  of  the  city  to  find 
some  quiet  spot  as  a  change  from  the  noise  and 
tumult  of  the  past  two  days.  Turning  a  corner 
he  came  face  to  face  with  a  man  whom  he  had 
seen  among  the  crowd  in  the  Assembly  hall,  —  a 
man  of  gigantic  stature  with  deep-set  eyes.  His 
appearance  was  so  striking  that  he  could  have 
passed  nowhere  unnoticed,  and  even  in  the  crowded 
hall  Tournay's  gaze  had  returned  to  him  con 
stantly.  As  they  met,  Tournay  again  looked  at 
him  earnestly.  The  man  stopped  with  the  abrupt 
question  :  — 

"Why  did  you  come  to  Versailles?" 
"  Because,"  answered  Tournay,  "  when  I  saw 
great  numbers  of  people  in  Paris  starving,  and 
heard  of  the  banqueting  here,  my  blood  boiled. 
This  Flanders  regiment,  which  is  feeding  fat  at 
the  people's  cost,  must  be  sent  away.  We  can 
not  pause  on  our  way  to  freedom  with  the  destruc 
tion  of  the  Bastille.  The  king  must  come  to  Paris 
where  the  people  need  him,  and  not  spend  his  time 
here  under  the  influence  of  a  corrupt  nobility." 

"  The  king,"  mused  the  other  ;  "  do  you  believe 
in  kings  ?  " 

"How  do  you  mean? — 'Do  I  believe  in  kings ' ?" 

"  Seventeen  years  ago,"  said  the  giant,  "  when 

only  a  boy,  I  stood  in  the  cathedral  at  Eheims 

while  the  coronation  of  the  king  was  taking  place. 


THE  BAKER  AND   HIS  FAMILY  55 

I  had  never  seen  a  king  before,  and  moved  by  a 
strong  desire  to  see  a  being  so  exalted,  I  had 
walked  many  leagues  to  gratify  my  curiosity. 
When  I  saw  a  pale-faced  stripling  kneel  before 
the  archbishop  to  receive  the  crown,  I  could 
hardly  keep  from  bursting  into  loud  laughter  at 
the  thought  that  such  a  puny  creature  could  hold 
the  destiny  of  a  great  nation  in  his  hands.  I  have 
often  thought  of  it  since,  and  to  this  day  it  is  as 
absurd  as  it  was  then." 

"  I  think  a  nation  should  have  a  king,"  said 
Tournay,  after  a  few  moments'  thought.  "But 
he  should  reign  in  the  interests  of  his  people. 
And  of  all  the  people,  not  a  small  part." 

"  And  so  you  came  down  here  to  see  that  our 
little  king  did  his  duty,"  suggested  the  large  man, 
smiling. 

"  I  came  here,  as  I  have  already  said,  because  in 
my  humble  way  I  wanted  to  do  something  for  my 
country." 

"  For  your  country  ?  "  repeated  his  companion 
interrogatively ;  "  for  the  people  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Tournay,  "  the  people,  —  the 
common  people,  to  whom  I  belong ;  those  who 
have  never  had  a  voice  lifted  up  to  speak  for  them, 
nor  a  hand  to  fight  their  battles." 

"  There  is  a  voice  to  speak  for  them  at  last," 
replied  the  giant,  his  eyes  shining  with  a  fierce 
light.  "  France  is  full  of  them.  From  north  to 
south,  from  east  to  west,  they  have  been  called 
and  are  answering.  In  the  Assembly  their  voices 
are  heard.  In  every  street  in  Paris  their  voices 


56  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

are  heard.  I  can  speak  for  them  and  I  will ;  aye 
and  fight  for  them  too,"  and  he  lifted  his  massive 
arm  with  a  gesture  which  in  its  force  seemed  to 
indicate  that  alone  he  could  fight  for  and  win  the 
people's  cause.  "Throughout  France  there  are 
millions  of  arms  which  like  mine  are  ready  to 
strike  down  tyranny.  Have  no  fear,  my  friend. 
The  nation  has  found  a  champion  in  itself !  The 
people  have  taken  up  their  own  cause ! "  The 
power  of  the  man,  his  earnestness  and  energy, 
stirred  Tournay  to  the  depths  of  his  soul.  He 
looked  with  admiration  at  the  lion-like  figure 
standing  before  him.  Then  grasping  the  man's 
hand  he  said  with  earnestness  :  — 

"  I  too  am  one  of  them,  —  I  may  not  be  of  much 
use,  still  I  am  one.  Will  you  show  me  how  I  can 
be  of  more  service  ?  " 

"A  stout  arm  and  a  brave  heart  are  always 
worth  much,"  replied  the  giant.  "  I  like  you, 
friend ;  your  voice  has  the  true  ring  in  it.  And 
where  Jacques  Danton  likes  he  trusts.  Come 
with  me  and  I  will  tell  you  more." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   "  BON   PATRIOT  " 

COLONEL  ROBERT  TOURNAY  of  the  Republican 
army  sat  over  his  coffee  in  the  cafe  of  the  "  Bon 
Patriot "  one  December  morning  in  the  year  1793 
of  the  Gregorian  Calendar,  and  the  year  2  of  the 
French  Republic. 

The  four  years  that  had  passed  since  the  July 
afternoon,  when  he  first  entered  Paris  through  the 
southern  gate,  had  been  full  of  stirring  events  in 
which  Tournay  had  taken  such  an  active  part  as 
to  make  the  time  equal  to  many  years  of  an  ordi 
nary  lifetime,  —  years  which  had  drawn  lines  upon 
his  forehead  that  are  not  usual  upon  the  brow  of 
twenty-six.  His  figure  was  considerably  heavier, 
but  even  more  elastic  and  muscular,  telling  of  a 
life  of  constant  bodily  exercise. 

Shortly  after  his  return  to  Paris  from  Versailles 
on  the  eventful  day  when  the  Demoiselle  de  la 
Liberte,  accompanied  by  her  forty  thousand, 
brought  the  baker  and  his  family  back  to  their 
people,  Tournay  had  enrolled  himself  in  the  Na 
tional  Guard  to  protect  Paris  and  the  country 
against  foreign  invasion. 

From  Paris  to  the  army  at  the  front  was  the 
next  step,  where  he  served  with  such  bravery  as 


58  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

to  gain  promotion  to  his  present  rank.  Promo 
tions  were  rapid  in  those  days,  and  men  rose  from 
the  lowest  social  ranks  to  the  highest  military 
positions,  if  they  proved  their  fitness  by  valor  and 
ability. 

By  the  winter  of  '93  Tournay  had  won  the 
shoulder-straps  of  a  colonel,  and  had  now  been 
sent  to  Paris  by  General  Hoche  with  dispatches 
to  the  National  Convention.  His  dispatches  had 
been  delivered  and  he  was  waiting  impatiently  for 
the  reply  which  he  was  to  take  back  to  the  front. 
More  than  eighteen  months  had  passed  since  he 
had  been  in  Paris,  and  the  scenes  in  the  city  streets 
had  a  new  charm  for  him.  It  was  with  a  feeling 
of  pride  that  he  looked  out  from  the  windows  of 
the  "  Bon  Patriot "  and  saw  the  active,  bustling 
crowds  on  the  boulevards  and  realized  that  the 
Republic  was  an  accomplished  fact  and  that  he 
had  done  his  part  toward  creating  it.  And  yet 
there  was  some  sadness  mingled  with  his  pride. 
Although  an  ardent  Republican  he  could  not  sym 
pathize  in  all  the  horrors  of  the  Revolution,  —  in 
deed  he  had  been  greatly  shocked  by  them.  Yet 
his  long  absence  from  Paris  had  prevented  him 
from  witnessing  the  worst  phases  of  the  reign  of 
terror,  and  thus  he  could  not  fully  realize  them. 
He  was,  moreover,  first  of  all,  a  man  of  the  people. 
He  had  resented  from  childhood  the  cruelty  and 
oppressions  under  which  they  had  suffered,  and 
his  joy  at  the  abolition  of  unjust  laws,  his  pride  in 
the  assertion  of  equality  for  all  men,  overweighed 
his  regret  for  the  bloodshed  that  had  accompanied 


THE   "BON  PATRIOT"  59 

the  triumph  of  their  cause  and  the  gaining  of  the 
Republic. 

Sitting  over  his  coffee,  he  recalled  his  early  life 
at  La  Thierry.  Since  the  day  of  his  flight,  he 
had  never  returned  there,  and  with  the  exception 
of  an  annual  letter  from  his  father,  who  although 
a  Royalist  could  not  quite  make  up  his  mind  to 
cast  off  his  only  son,  he  had  no  communication 
with  the  inhabitants  of  the  chateau.  From  these 
occasional  and  brief  epistles  he  had  learned  that 
the  Baron  de  Rochefort  had  gone  to  England  al 
most  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution.  In  a 
more  roundabout  way  he  learned  the  cause  of  the 
baron's  departure  to  be  a  secret  mission  to  the 
Court  of  St.  James  on  behalf  of  the  tottering 
French  monarchy.  The  mission  had  come  to 
naught ;  the  baron  had  fallen  ill  in  London  and 
died  there  a  few  months  after  his  arrival. 

Edme,  his  only  child,  was  therefore  left  at  La 
Thierry,  where  she  lived  in  great  seclusion,  with 
Matthieu  Tournay  still  in  faithful  attendance. 
The  marriage  with  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville  had 
never  taken  place.  As  the  Revolution  progressed 
and  the  de  Rochefort  fortune  dwindled,  the  mar 
quis's  ardor,  never  at  glowing  heat,  cooled  percep 
tibly,  and  during  the  past  two  years  nothing  had 
been  heard  of  him  at  the  chateau.  It  was  thought 
that  he  had  either  gone  abroad  or  was  living  in 
seclusion  in  Paris. 

Tournay  had  sometimes  felt  a  little  anxious  as 
to  the  safety  of  Mademoiselle  Edme  and  his  father, 
but  the  letters  he  received  from  old  Matthieu  were 


60  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

reassuring,  and  as  the  place  was  a  secluded  one 
and  the  family  not  known  to  have  shared  actively 
in  the  royalist  cause,  his  anxieties  had  for  some 
time  been  allayed  and  he  thought  of  them  now  as 
likely  to  escape  suspicion  and  to  remain  there  in 
quiet  obscurity. 

Tournay  was  roused  from  his  reverie  by  the  con 
versation  of  two  men  at  an  adjoining  table,  or, 
more  strictly  speaking,  a  man  and  a  boy.  for  the 
younger  was  not  over  seventeen  years  of  age.  His 
face  was  quite  innocent  of  any  beard.  On  his 
yellow  curls  he  wore  the  red  nightcap  of  the  Jaco 
bins  and  his  belt  was  an  arsenal  of  knives  and 
pistols.  Taking  up  a  glass  of  beer  he  blew  off 
the  froth  with  a  quick  puff  of  the  lips. 

"  Thus  would  I  blow  off  the  heads  of  all  kings," 
he  said  in  a  voice  that  courted  attention ;  "  I  give 
you  a  toast,  comrade :  death  to  every  tyrant  in 
Europe." 

"  I  '11  drink  that  toast  willingly,"  answered  the 
other,  a  big  fellow,  who  despite  his  swagger  and 
insolent  manner,  had  a  face  bearing  considerable 
traces  of  good  looks.  "  But  I  should  prefer  to 
drink  confusion  to  each  in  a  separate  glass,  seeing 
that  you  are  standing  treat  for  the  day,"  and  he 
laughed  at  his  own  wit. 

"  The  Revolution  does  not  march  quick  enough 
to  suit  my  fancy,"  he  went  on,  turning  his  glass 
upside  down  to  indicate  that  it  needed  replenish 
ing,  and  then  wiping  the  froth  from  the  ends  of 
his  drooping  brown  mustache.  "  The  conven 
tion  is  too  slow  in  its  work  of  purging  the  nation. 


THE   "BON  PATRIOT"  61 

"Were  it  not  for  Kobespierre  we  should  make  no 
progress.  Why  are  there  still  aristocrats  walking 
in  the  broad  light  of  day  ?  " 

"  Very  few  come  out  in  the  daylight,  citizen," 
remarked  the  boy.  "  They  creep  out  at  night 
generally." 

"  Well,  why  are  they  allowed  to  live  at  all, 
young  friend  ?  "  said  the  elder  man,  striking  the 
table  with  his  fist. 

"  Be  patient,  good  Citizen  Gonflou ;  the  Com 
mittee  of  Public  Safety  has  sent  out  a  good  batch 
of  arrests  within  the  last  twenty-four  hours,"  said 
the  lad  knowingly.  "  I  have  it  from  my  brother, 
who  has  been  charged  with  the  execution  of  one." 

"  Your  brother,  Bernard  Gardin  ?  "  inquired  the 
other  as  he  drained  his  glass.  "  Who  is  it 
now?" 

"  Bernard  has  gone  down  to  our  old  home  in  the 
village  of  La  Thierry  to  arrest  a  young  aristocrat 
by  the  name  of  Edme  de  Rochefort,"  replied  the 
boy. 

"  Oh,  oh,  a  woman  !  "  laughed  Gonflou.  "  Well, 
I  'm  glad  I  've  not  got  your  brother's  work.  I  'm 
too  tender-hearted  when  it  comes  to  be  a  question 
of  women." 

Tournay  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 
The  next  instant  he  tipped  over  his  coffee-cup 
with  a  clatter  to  cover  up  the  betrayal  of  interest 
in  the  conversation,  and  in  replacing  it,  managed 
to  draw  his  chair  nearer  to  the  two  men. 

"  When  did  he  start  ? "  was  the  inquiry  of 
Gonflou. 


62  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  This  morning  at  six.  He  will  return  in  four 
days." 

Recovered  from  the  first  shock,  Tournay 's  reso 
lution  was  immediate.  Edine  de  Rochefort  must 
be  saved  from  arrest  —  and  from  the  death  that 
was  almost  certain  to  follow. 

He  was  a  man  of  action,  accustomed  to  think 
quickly,  and  he  began  at  once  to  devise  means  to 
save  her.  His  first  thought  was  of  Danton.  On 
this  man's  friendship  he  felt  sure  he  could  rely. 
His  ability  and  willingness  to  assist  him  he  re 
solved  to  test  immediately. 

The  conversation  between  the  two  men  at  the 
adjoining  table  took  another  turn  and  he  saw  he 
was  likely  to  hear  no  more  on  this  subject,  so  he 
rose  from  his  seat  and  hurried  from  the  cafe.  Ten 
minutes  later  he  climbed  the  dark  stairway  that 
led  to  Danton's  lodging.  Here  he  found  the  Re 
publican  giant  in  his  shirtsleeves,  —  a  short  pipe 
between  his  lips,  bending  over  his  writing  table. 
He  did  not  look  up  as  Tournay  took  a  chair  at 
his  elbow,  but  a  nod  from  the  massive  head  showed 
that  he  was  aware  of  his  presence. 

"  Jacques,"  asked  Tournay  abruptly,  "  was  an 
order  for  the  arrest  of  a  certain  Citizeness  Edme 
de  Rochefort  signed  by  the  committee  last  night  ?  " 

Danton  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  while  he 
stroked  his  chin  thoughtfully. 

"  Hum  —  de  Rochefort  ?  A  daughter  of  the 
Baron  Honore  who  went  to  England  as  emissary 
from  the  late  monarchy  ?  Yes,  I  believe  the  wo 
man  is  to  be  arrested,"  was  the  reply. 


THE   "BON  PATRIOT"  63 

"  If  I  furnish  you  with  abundant  reason  for  it 
will  you  have  the  order  rescinded  at  once  ?  " 

"  I  cannot,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Is  there  any  other  charge  against  the  Citizeness 
de  Rochefort  except  that  she  is  the  daughter  of  her 
father?" 

"  None  that  I  know  of." 

"  Why  arrest  a  young  woman  merely  because 
her  father  went  to  England  as  an  emissary  of 
Louis  Capet  more  than  three  years  ago  ?  " 

Danton  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Tournay  con 
tinued. 

"In  view  of  the  length  of  time  which  has 
elapsed,  in  view  of  the  absolute  lack  of  result 
from  the  baron's  mission,  in  view  of  the  youth  and 
innocence  of  this  girl,  will  you  not  endeavor  to 
have  this  order  rescinded  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  desire  it  so  strongly  ?  "  demanded 
Danton,  laying  down  his  pen  for  the  first  time. 

"  Because  I  have  known  her  from  a  child.  I 
was  born  on  the  de  Rochefort  estate,"  was  the 
prompt  reply. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  asked  Danton. 

"  No,  it  is  not  the  only  reason.  I  abhor  this 
dragging  of  the  weak  and  innocent  into  the  politi 
cal  whirlpool.  We  do  not  need  to  make  war  upon 
women.  I  have  protested  against  this  before  now, 
and  I  tell  you  again  that  we  are  disgracing  the 
Republic  by  the  crimes  committed  in  its  name. 
You  are  all-powerful  with  the  masses,  Jacques, 
your  voice  is  always  listened  to,  —  why  do  you 
not  put  an  end  to  the  atrocities,  which  instead  of 


64  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

decreasing,  are  growing  worse  daily?  Where  is 
your  eloquence?  Where  is  your  power?  How 
can  you  sit  passively  by  and  see  these  horrors? 
Are  they  done  with  your  sanction  ?  Can  it  be  that 
a  man  with  your  strength  can  take  a  pleasure  in 
crushing  the  weak  and  defenseless?" 

"  Would  to  God  that  I  had  the  power  to  stop 
it,"  cried  Danton.  "  Do  you  think  that  I  take 
pleasure  in  the  arrest  of  innocent  young  women  ? 
Do  you  think  that  it  is  with  delight  that  I  see  our 
prisons  crowded  with  thousands  whose  only  crime 
is  to  have  been  born  among  the  aristocrats  ?  "  He 
rose  and  paced  the  floor  savagely.  "  You  talk  of 
my  power  with  the  people.  You  say  they  listen  to 
my  voice.  To  keep  that  power  I  must  remain  in 
advance.  If  once  I  lag  behind  it  is  gone  forever. 
We  have  given  life  to  this  terrible  creature  the 
Revolution,  and  we  must  march  before  it.  If  we 
falter  it  will  crush  us  too." 

"  Let  it  crush  us  then,"  cried  Tournay,  spring 
ing  to  his  feet.  "  I  will  no  longer  be  driven  by 
it." 

Danton  looked  at  him  a  moment  with  kindly 
eyes,  then  shook  his  head  and  said  mournfully : 
"  And  France,  what  would  she  do  without  me  ? 
All  I  have  done  has  been  done  for  her  sake.  And 
I  do  not  regret  what  has  been  done,"  he  continued, 
resuming  his  former  manner.  uNo,  when  I  see 
what  we  have  done  I  regret  nothing.  That  the 
innocent  have  perished,  I  know,  and  I  deplore  it. 
That  the  innocent  must  still  perish  is  inevitable. 
But  what  is  the  blood  of  a  few  thousand  to  wash 


THE  "BON  PATRIOT"  65 

out  the  cruelty  of  ages  ?  What  are  the  cries  of  a 
few  compared  with  the  groans  of  millions  through 
out  the  centuries !  Even  now  the  allied  armies  of 
all  Europe  are  thundering  at  the  doors  of  France. 
We  cannot  pause  now.  They  have  dared  us  to 
the  combat,  and  in  return,  as  gage  of  battle,  we 
have  hurled  them  down  the  bleeding  head  of  a 
king.  We  must  go  on." 

Then  sinking  into  his  seat,  he  said  quietly,  "  No, 
Robert,  my  friend,  let  Robespierre  and  his  follow 
ers  have  their  way  in  these  small  matters  for  a 
little  while  longer.  What  are  the  lives  of  a  few 
peachy-cheeked  girls  weighed  against  the  destiny 
of  a  nation  ?  "  And  he  took  up  his  pen. 

Tournay  sat  in  silent  thought  for  a  few  minutes. 
He  saw  that  it  would  be  useless  to  say  more. 
After  Danton's  pen  had  labored  heavily  over  a 
few  pages,  he  exclaimed,  "  Jacques !  " 

"Well?" 

"  Will  you  procure  me  a  passport  from  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety  which  will  take  me  to 
the  German  frontier  ?  " 

"  Are  you  going  to  run  away  ?  "  asked  Danton, 
still  busy  over  his  work. 

"  Whatever  happens,  I  shall  never  leave  France," 
replied  Tournay  quietly. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Danton,  ringing  a  bell.  "  I 
never  shall  suspect  your  patriotism,  but  there  are 
those  who  might  if  you  talked  to  them  as  you 
have  to  me." 

As  his  secretary  appeared  in  answer  to  the  sum 
mons,  he  took  up  a  sheet  of  paper  to  write  the 
order. 


66  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"Make  it  for  Colonel  Robert  Tournay  and 
wife,"  said  Tournay  carelessly,  leaning  over  his 
shoulder. 

Danton  looked  up  at  him  suddenly.  "  I  did  not 
know  you  were  married,"  he  said. 

Tournay  made  no  reply. 

Danton  wrote  a  few  lines  rapidly.  "  Take  this 
to  the  secretary  of  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety,"  he  said  to  his  clerk,  "  and  return  with  an 
answer  in  half  an  hour." 

In  less  than  that  time  the  man  returned  with 
the  information  that  the  secretary  was  away  and 
would  not  return  until  two  o'clock  that  after 
noon. 

"Will  that  do?"  asked  Danton,  turning  to 
Tournay. 

"  And  it  is  now  ten,"  said  Tournay  rather  impa 
tiently.  "  It  will  have  to  do,  I  am  afraid." 

"  I  will  send  it  to  your  lodgings  the  moment  it 
comes  in,"  said  Danton,  resuming  his  work. 

"  Very  well,  do  so,  and  many  thanks.  If  I  am 
not  there  have  it  left  with  the  friend  who  shares 
my  lodgings."  Tournay  quitted  the  office  and 
hastened  home,  stopping  on  the  way  at  a  stable 
where  his  horse  was  quartered,  to  give  instructions 
that  the  animal  be  saddled  and  brought  to  his  door 
without  delay. 

Reaching  his  house,  he  ran  up  the  four  flights 
of  stairs  that  led  to  the  little  suite  of  rooms  which 
he  was  sharing  with  his  friend  Gaillard. 

Gaillard  was  a  versatile  fellow;  he  had  been 
a  poet,  an  actor,  and  a  journalist.  Sometimes 


THE   "BON  PATRIOT"  67 

the  one  and  sometimes  the  other,  as  inclination 
prompted  or  destiny  decreed. 

Shortly  after  Tournay's  first  arrival  at  Paris, 
he  had  met  Gaillard,  who  was  then  a  journalist, 
at  a  public  meeting.  The  chance  acquaintance 
led  to  friendship.  He  had  found  the  young  writer 
in  some  financial  straits  and  had  rendered  him 
such  assistance  as  his  own  slender  purse  could 
afford. 

Gaillard,  who  never  forgot  the  favor,  was  de 
voted  to  his  friend.  He  watched  his  career  as  a 
soldier  with  interest  and  pride,  and  now  that  Tour- 
nay  had  come  to  Paris  for  a  few  days,  Gaillard 
had  insisted  that  his  small  chambers  should  have 
the  honor  of  sheltering  the  gallant  officer  of  the 
Republic. 

Gaillard  was  at  present  amusing  crowds  nightly 
at  the  Theatre  of  the  Republic,  where  he  was  play 
ing  a  series  of  comedy  roles. 

It  was  with  satisfaction  that  Tournay,  as  he 
ascended  the  stairs,  heard  Gaillard' s  voice  in  the 
room,  repeating  the  lines  of  his  part  for  that  even 
ing's  performance. 

"  Well,  my  brave  colonel,  how  goes  the  conven 
tion  to-day?"  said  Gaillard,  as  Tournay  entered 
the  room.  "  Has  the  Tribunal  done  me  the  honor 
to  request  that  I  be  shaved  by  the  guillotine?" 

"I  have  not  been  to  the  convention  to-day. 
Other  business  has  prevented,"  replied  Tournay, 
going  into  his  bedroom  and  taking  a  pair  of  pis 
tols  from  his  wardrobe. 

"  No  ?  then  I  must  wait  until  I  get  to  the  club 


68  EGBERT  TOURNAY 

before  I  learn  the  exact  number  of  the  nobility 
who  are  to  patronize  the  national  razor  to-day." 

"Are  you  in  the  piece  for  to-night,  Gaillard?" 
asked  Tournay,  hardly  hearing  what  his  friend 
was  saying. 

"lam." 

"That's  unfortunate,  for  I  wanted  to  ask  a 
great  service  of  you,"  said  Tournay,  as  he  pro 
ceeded  to  clean  and  load  the  weapon. 

"Tell  me  what  it  is;  I  may  be  able  to  help 
you." 

"  I  am  going  at  once  to  La  Thierry." 

"La  Thierry?"  inquired  Gaillard. 

"  Yes.  It  is  my  birthplace.  I  am  going  there 
on  an  important  errand.  I  must  start  instantly. 
I  cannot  even  wait  for  a  paper  which  is  to  be  sent 
to  me  here  by  Danton.  I  am  perfectly  willing  to 
let  you  know  that  it  is  a  passport  to  the  frontier, 
for  myself  and  one  other.  The  paper  will  not  ar 
rive  until  two  o'clock,  several  hours  after  I  am  on 
the  way.  I  must  have  a  swift  messenger  follow 
with  it  and  join  me  at  the  inn  in  the  village  of 
La  Thierry." 

"  I  will  see  that  this  is  done,"  replied  Gaillard. 
"Is  that  all?" 

"  That  is  all,"  said  Tournay,  hurrying  from  the 
room.  On  the  threshold  he  turned.  "Are  you 
positive  that  you  will  be  able  to  find  a  trustworthy 
messenger?  Failure  would  be  fatal." 

"  I  swear  to  you  to  have  it  there,"  cried  Gail 
lard,  lifting  up  his  arm  and  striking  a  dramatic 
attitude. 


THE  "BON  PATRIOT"  69 

Tournay  knew  that,  despite  his  apparent  frivol 
ity,  Gaillard  possessed  not  only  a  loyal  heart,  but 
a  clear  head,  and  he  felt  that  he  could  trust  him 
thoroughly.  Much  relieved  in  mind,  he  descended 
the  stairway  and  sprang  upon  his  horse  at  the 
door.  Since  leaving  Danton  he  had  been  think 
ing  out  a  plan  which  he  hoped  would  success 
fully  save  Mademoiselle  Edme  de  Rochefort,  but 
to  carry  it  into  effect  he  must  reach  La  Thierry 
before  Gardin.  So  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he 
dashed  through  the  streets  at  a  pace  which  threat 
ened  the  lives  of  a  number  of  the  good  citizens. 
In  a  short  time  he  was  out  of  the  gates,  galloping 
along  the  road  toward  La  Thierry  at  a  tremendous 
pace.  Then  suddenly  recollecting  that  the  road 
to  be  traveled  was  a  long  one,  he  drew  a  tighter 
rein  on  his  horse  and  slackened  his  speed. 

"  Thou  must  restrain  thy  ardor,"  he  said,  lean 
ing  forward  and  stroking  the  sleek  neck  of  the 
animal  affectionately ;  "  thou  hast  a  long  journey 
before  thee  and  must  not  break  down  under  it." 

At  ten  o'clock  that  night  he  drew  up  before  the 
inn  at  Vallieres,  just  half  the  distance  to  La  Thi 
erry.  He  reluctantly  saw  that  his  horse  had  en 
tirely  given  out.  As  for  himself,  he  would  have 
gone  on  if  he  could  have  obtained  a  fresh  beast. 
He  looked  critically  at  those  in  the  stable  of  the 
inn,  and  realized  that  with  four  hours'  rest  his 
own  horse  would  bring  him  to  his  journey's  end 
more  readily  than  any  of  the  sorry  animals  the 
landlord  had  to  offer.  Having  come  to  this  deci 
sion  he  threw  himself  fully  dressed  on  a  bed  for  a 


70  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

short  sleep.  He  slept  until  two  in  the  morning. 
Then,  after  a  hasty  cup  of  coffee,  he  was  again  in 
the  saddle  and  continuing  his  journey. 

He  rode  steadily  on  with  the  advancing  day, 
passing  some  travelers,  none  of  whom  he  recog 
nized.  At  noon  he  entered  the  village  of  Amand. 
Thence  there  were  two  roads  to  La  Thierry.  One, 
the  more  direct,  led  to  the  right  over  the  hill ;  the 
other,  to  the  left  and  along  the  river,  was  the 
longer  but  the  better  road.  If  his  horse  had  been 
fresh,  Tournay  would  have  taken  the  short-cut, 
going  over  hill  and  dale  at  a  gallop,  but  his  tired 
beast  decided  him  to  choose  the  river  road. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  afternoon  he  saw  in  the 
distance  the  spire  of  the  church  of  La  Thierry. 
He  felt  positive  by  this  time  that  Gardin  must 
have  taken  the  upper  road  or  he  should  have  over 
taken  him  before  this,  so  rapidly  had  he  traveled. 

Every  step  of  the  way  was  familiar  to  him. 
Every  bend  in  the  river,  every  stone  by  the  way 
side  was  associated  with  his  boyhood.  Just  before 
he  came  to  the  village  of  La  Thierry,  he  left  the 
main  road  and  turning  to  the  right  followed  a  lane 
that  made  a  short  cut  to  the  chateau  de  Roche- 
fort.  It  was  about  two  miles  long  and  in  summer 
was  an  archway  of  shaded  trees  and  full  of  refresh 
ment.  Now  the  branches  were  bare,  and  the  fly 
ing  feet  of  his  steed  sank  to  the  fetlocks  in  the 
carpet  of  damp,  dead  leaves. 

As  he  approached  the  chateau  on  the  right  he 
heard  a  sound  that  caused  him  to  draw  rein  in 
consternation.  Springing  from  his  horse  he  fas- 


THE  «BON  PATRIOT"  71 

tened  him  to  a  sapling  by  the  wayside,  seized  his 
pistols  from  his  holsters,  and  hurried  forward  on 
foot.  At  every  step  he  took  the  sounds  grew 
louder.  There  was  no  mistaking  their  meaning. 

The  lane  terminated  about  a  hundred  yards 
from  the  house.  Tournay  threw  himself  flat  upon 
the  earth  and  working  his  way  to  a  place  where 
he  was  sheltered  by  the  overhanging  branches  of 
some  hemlock  trees,  looked  cautiously  out  toward 
the  chateau. 

An  attack  was  being  made  on  the  chateau  at 
the  front.  Half  a  score  of  men  armed  with  clubs 
and  various  other  weapons  were  endeavoring  to 
break  down  the  iron  -  studded  oaken  door.  A 
gigantic  figure  with  shirt  open  to  the  waist,  whom 
Tournay  recognized  as  the  blacksmith  of  La  Thi 
erry,  was  dealing  blow  after  blow  in  rapid  suc 
cession  with  a  huge  sledge-hammer.  The  door, 
which  had  been  built  to  resist  a  siege  during  the 
religious  wars  of  the  sixteenth  century,  groaned 
and  trembled  under  the  blows  of  the  mighty  Vul 
can,  but  still  held  fast  to  the  hinges.  A  man, 
standing  a  little  apart  from  the  others  and  direct 
ing  their  movements,  Tournay  knew  to  be  Gardin. 
Seeing  that  they  were  making  little  headway,  the 
latter  ordered  his  men  to  desist,  evidently  to  form 
a  more  definite  plan  of  attack.  In  the  mean  time 
Tournay  was  working  along  the  line  of  the  hem 
locks  towards  the  rear  of  the  house.  Suddenly 
three  or  four  men  detached  themselves  from  the 
attacking  party  and  approached  him.  Fearing 
that  he  had  been  discovered,  he  lay  perfectly  quiet. 


72  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

He  soon  saw  that  they  were  making  for  the  trunk 
of  a  sturdy  ash-tree  which  had  been  recently  felled 
by  a  stroke  of  lightning.  This  they  soon  stripped 
of  its  branches,  and  hewing  off  about  thirty  feet 
of  the  trunk  they  bore  it  back  on  their  shoulders 
with  shouts  of  triumph.  Here  was  a  battering-ram 
which  would  clear  a  way  for  them. 

Seeing  them  again  occupied  with  the  assault, 
Tournay  continued  to  crawl  cautiously  along  the 
edge  of  the  grove  until  he  was  in  a  line  with  the 
rear  buildings.  Here  were  the  servants'  rooms, 
the  business  offices  of  the  estate,  and  at  one  corner 
the  office  and  the  rooms  occupied  by  Matthieu 
Tournay,  the  steward.  This,  the  oldest  part  of 
the  building,  was  covered  thick  with  old  ivy,  by 
whose  gnarled  and  twisted  roots  he  had  climbed 
often,  when  a  boy,  to  the  little  chamber  in  the  roof 
which  had  been  his  own.  From  this  he  knew  well 
how  to  reach  the  apartments  in  the  main  building. 
The  repeated  blows  of  the  ash-tree  against  the 
doors  warned  him  that  they  could  not  resist  the 
attack  much  longer.  He  climbed  quickly  up  until 
he  reached  the  well-known  little  window  under 
the  eaves.  Dashing  it  open  with  his  fist  he  swung 
himself  into  the  attic-room  which  he  had  known  so 
well  in  his  boyhood. 


CHAPTER  V 

A   BROKEN  DOOR 

"  OPEN,  in  the  name  of  the  Republic." 

No  answer. 

Crash!  Crash!  Blow  followed  blow  upon  the 
door  of  the  old  chateau. 

"  Again,  citizens,  once  again !  Brasseur !  bring 
fagots,  we  '11  fire  the  old  trap.  Forgons,  take  this 
sledge-hammer  in  your  big  hands.  At  it,  man !  — 
we  '11  soon  have  the  lair  of  the  aristocrats  down 
about  their  ears.  Def  our,  Haillons,  and  you  others, 
take  up  that  ash-tree  and  let  it  strike  in  the  same 
place  as  before." 

Amid  a  pandemonium  of  shouts  and  curses  the 
blows  continued  to  rain  upon  the  iron-studded  outer 
door  of  the  chateau  de  Rochefort,  and  the  tree, 
used  as  a  battering-ram,  poised  upon  the  shoulders 
of  a  dozen  men,  was  dashed  forward  with  a  force 
that  made  the  hinge-bolts  start  from  their  sockets 
and  the  oaken  panels  fill  the  air  with  splinters. 

The  besieged  had  taken  refuge  in  one  of  the 
large  salons  on  the  second  floor.  There  were  only 
four  of  them :  an  old  man,  a  priest,  and  two  women. 

"  They  have  nearly  forced  the  outer  door," 
cried  old  Matthieu  Tournay,  wiping  the  perspira 
tion  from  his  brow  with  trembling  hand. 


74  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  But  the  inner  one,"  exclaimed  the  priest,  lay 
ing  his  hand  on  Matthieu's  arm.  "  How  long  will 
that  keep  them  off  ?  " 

"  They  '11  break  through  that  easily.  Nothing 
can  save  us  now  ;  we  are  all  lost,"  replied  the  old 
man. 

"  May  the  Blessed  Virgin  preserve  us  from  the 
monsters,"  murmured  the  priest,  looking  towards 
the  woman. 

Edme  de  Rochefort  stood  near  the  window. 
The  terrifying  sounds  which  echoed  through  the 
lower  part  of  the  building  would  have  unnerved 
her,  had  not  anger  supplied  a  sustaining  force,  and 
brought  a  deep  flush  to  supplant  the  pallor  on  her 
cheeks.  The  spirit  of  her  race  was  roused  within 
her.  Had  she  been  a  man  she  would  have  charged 
alone,  sword  in  hand,  against  the  mob ;  but  being 
only  a  woman  she  stood  waiting  the  issue.  Trem 
bling  slightly,  she  stood  with  her  small  hands 
clenched  and  white  teeth  firmly  set.  At  her  elbow 
was  Agatha,  her  maid.  She  was  paler  than  her 
mistress,  but  it  was  not  for  herself  she  feared. 
Her  devotion  made  her  fear  more  for  Edme's 
safety  than  for  her  own. 

As  the  shouts  redoubled  Edme  saw  the  two  old 
men  turn,  pallid  and  trembling,  towards  her. 

"  They  seek  me  only,"  she  said  resolutely. 
"  Why  should  I  endanger  your  lives  by  remaining 
here  ?  I  will  go  to  meet  them !  " 

"  You  shall  not  go !  "  cried  Agatha,  placing  her 
self  in  front  of  her  mistress. 

"  It  can  only  be  a  question  of  a  few  minutes  at 
the  longest.  Let  me  go,  Agatha." 


A  BROKEN  DOOR  75 

"  Listen,"  cried  the  priest,  "  they  are  in  the 
house !  They  are  coming  up  the  stairway  now !  " 

"  No,"  cried  old  Matthieu,  "  I  can  still  hear 
them  down  there  in  the  courtyard." 

Nevertheless  a  quick  footstep  was  heard  ap 
proaching  from  the  corridor.  The  portieres  at 
the  further  end  of  the  room  were  thrown  apart, 
and  a  man,  wearing  the  uniform  of  the  Republican 
army,  entered  the  salon. 

"  Robert !  "  came  in  a  glad  cry  from  old  Tour- 
nay's  lips. 

Tournay  did  not  wait  to  exchange  words  with 
his  father,  but  approached  Edme. 

"  I  have  ridden  from  Paris  to  prevent  your 
arrest,  mademoiselle ;  thank  God  I  have  arrived 
in  time.  Only  do  as  I  direct  and  I  shall  be  able 
to  save  you." 

"  How  are  we  to  know  that  we  can  trust  you  ?  " 
she  said,  looking  at  him  fixedly. 

He  caught  his  breath  as  if  unprepared  for  such 
a  question.  "You  must  trust  me,  mademoiselle." 

Edme  laughed  scornfully. 

The  color  which  rose  to  his  cheek  showed  that 
her  laugh  cut  even  deeper  than  her  words. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  he  began,  "  if  you  "  — 

She  interrupted  him  passionately.  "Are  not 
those  men  below  who  seek  to  destroy  my  chateau 
your  friends?  They  have  been  clamoring  for 
admittance  in  the  name  of  the  Republic."  And 
she  looked  significantly  at  the  tricolored  cockade 
in  his  hat. 

"  And  because  I  am  a  Republican  and  wear  the 


76  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

uniform  of  the  nation  do  you  really  think  that  I 
could  have  anything  in  common  with  those  ruf 
fians  ?  You  do  me  great  injustice ;  I  am  here  with 
one  object,  to  protect  this  household." 

Edme  continued  to  look  steadily  at  him. 

"You  say  nothing,  mademoiselle.  You  con 
demn  me  by  your  silence.  I  will  prove  to  you 
how  deeply  you  wrong  me  even  if  it  take  my  life. 
I  would  give  that  gladly  only  to  prove  it  to  you. 
But  there  is  more  than  my  life  at  stake.  There  is 
your  safety  —  and  the  safety  of  these,  your  ser 
vants.  My  father  —  mademoiselle  !  " 

Edme's  look  softened  a  little  as  she  answered  :  — 

"Although  since  you  left  our  house  we  have 
only  thought  of  you  as  an  enemy,  still  I  believe 
your  father's  son  would  be  incapable  of  treachery. 
As  for  saving  us,  listen  to  the  mob  below.  One 
man  is  helpless  against  so  many." 

•"I  can  save  you  —  but  it  depends  upon  your 
self.  No  matter  what  I  may  say  or  do,  you  must 
trust  me  implicitly." 

"  Oh !  do  as  my  son  says,  mademoiselle  !  "  in 
terposed  old  Matthieu,  joining  his  hands  beseech 
ingly.  "  For  your  sake,  for  all  our  sakes,  listen  to 
and  be  guided  by  him." 

"  If  you  can  really  protect  us  in  this  dreadful 
hour  I  should  be  guilty  if  I  risked  the  lives  of 
those  who  have  faithfully  remained  at  my  side,  by 
refusing  your  aid.  I  will  follow  your  father's  and 
your  counsel,"  said  Edme  quietly. 

"  Is  the  door  of  the  salon  barred  ? "  asked 
Tournay  of  his  father. 


A  BROKEN  DOOR  77 

"  With  such  slight  fastenings  as  we  have,"  an 
swered  the  old  man. 

"  See  that  it  is  fast,"  said  Tournay.  "  It  will 
give  us  a  few  minutes.  Then  listen  to  me." 

There  was  a  crash  —  louder  than  any  that  had 
yet  been  heard,  and  the  mob  poured  into  the  lower 
part  of  the  chateau. 

Here  they  paused  for  a  moment  to  recover 
breath  and  wipe  the  perspiration  from  their  brows. 
Then  some  of  the  party  began  again  their  work  of 
destruction  among  the  pieces  of  furniture,  while 
others  brought  up  wine  from  the  cellar  to  refresh 
themselves  and  their  thirsty  companions. 

Gardin,  anxious  only  to  make  the  arrest,  stormed 
at  this  slight  delay. 

"  Cannot  you  leave  your  wine  until  your  work 
is  done,  citizens  ? "  he  called  out  impatiently. 
"  The  aristocrat  is  above  stairs  —  follow  me !  " 

Through  the  large  hall  of  the  chateau  and  up 
the  broad  staircase,  on  the  heels  of  their  leader, 
swarmed  the  mob,  yelling  and  cursing. 

Gardin  and  Forgons,  like  bloodhounds  who  scent 
their  prey,  made  direct  for  the  door  of  the  great 
salon,  where  the  little  party  awaited  them.  Gar- 
din  shook  the  door  violently,  then  threw  himself 
against  it  to  force  an  entrance. 

"  Here,  citizen,  we  have  already  proven  that  two 
pair  of  shoulders  are  better  than  one  at  that 
game,"  laughed  Forgons,  adding  his  strength  to 
that  of  Gardin.  Under  their  combined  weight  the 
door  yielded  with  a  suddenness  that  precipitated 
both  men  into  the  room,  —  Gardin  on  his  hands 


78  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

and  face  while  Forgons  fell  over  him,  —  and  the 
two  rolled  together  in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 
Amid  a  shout  of  rough  laughter  from  the  men  in 
the  rear  the  two  leaders  regained  their  feet. 

The  scowl  on  Gardin's  face  vanished  in  a  look 
of  astonishment  when  he  found  himself  face  to 
face  with  a  man  in  the  uniform  of  a  colonel  of  the 
French  army. 

Matthieu  and  the  old  priest  had  retreated  to 
the  corner  of  the  room  at  their  entrance.  Beside 
the  chimney-piece  stood  Edme  de  Rochefort.  The 
sight  of  the  frenzied  mob,  the  knowledge  that  it 
was  her  arrest  alone  they  sought ;  the  shrinking 
dread  which  the  thought  of  their  rude  touch  in 
spired,  made  her  heart  sink  with  sickening  terror. 
Yet  beyond  trembling  slightly,  she  gave  no  sign 
of  fear. 

Gardin  had  expected  to  find  a  frightened  girl, 
surrounded  possibly  by  a  few  servants  who  remained 
faithful.  The  sight  of  Tournay's  tall  figure,  his  re 
solute  face,  above  all  his  uniform,  standing  between 
him  and  the  object  of  his  search,  made  him  hesitate. 

"  There  she  is !  That 's  the  aristocrat !  "  ex 
claimed  Forgons,  as  Gardin  hesitated.  "  Let  me 
get  my  hands  upon  her."  He  rushed  forward,  but 
before  he  could  touch  Edme,  Tournay  pushed  him 
backward  with  a  force  that  sent  him  reeling  into 
the  group  of  men  behind. 

"  A  thousand  devils,"  cried  Forgons,  when  he 
regained  his  equilibrium,  "  what  is  the  meaning  of 
this,  citizen  colonel  ?  Are  you  defending  the  little 
aristocrat  ?  " 


A  BROKEN  DOOR  79 

"Keep  back,  will  you,  Forgons,"  interposed 
Gardin,  fearing  that  his  dignity  as  leader  would 
be  usurped.  "  Leave  me  to  manage  this  affair.  I 
am  here,"  he  said,  addressing  Colonel  Tournay, 
"  to  apprehend  the  person  of  an  aristocrat,  and 
shall  brook  no  interference  on  the  part  of  any 
one." 

"  Let  me  look  at  your  warrant,"  demanded  Tour- 
nay,  in  a  tone  of  authority. 

"  I  am  not  obliged  to  show  that  to  you,"  replied 
Gardin  doggedly. 

"  Let  me  see  it,  I  say  !  "  was  the  determined  re 
joinder. 

Gardin  slowly  drew  a  document  from  the  breast 
of  his  coat  and  handed  it  over  with  a  sullen 
"  Well,  there 's  no  harm  in  your  seeing  it." 

Tournay  read  it  carefully.  Then  folding  it  up 
with  great  deliberation  he  returned  it. 

"  It  seems  quite  regular." 

"  Regular,"  repeated  Gardin,  with  a  laugh,  — 
"  well,  I  like  that.  Of  course  it 's  quite  regular, 
—  signed  and  stamped  by  the  Committee  of  Pub 
lic  Safety.  Then  with  a  show  of  mock  politeness : 
"  Now  if  the  citizen  colonel  will  condescend  to  step 
aside  I  will  conduct  this  young  citizeness  from  the 
room." 

"  That  order  of  arrest  calls  for  a  certain  citi 
zeness  de  Rochef ort,  does  it  not  ?  "  asked  Tournay, 
without  moving. 

"  Certainly  it  does.  The  Citizeness  Edme  de 
Rochef  ort  who  stands  there,  right  behind  you." 

"  You  will  not  find  her  here,"  replied  Tournay. 


80  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  None  of  your  jests  with  me,  citizen  colonel ; 
why,  as  I  said  before,  she  's  standing  behind  you. 
I  should  know  her  for  an  aristocrat  by  the  proud 
look  on  her  face  if  I  had  not  seen  her  a  hundred 
times  here  in  La  Thierry." 

"  This  is  not  Citizeness  de  Rochefort." 

"  That 's  a  lie,"  replied  Gardin  bluntly,  "  and  in 
any  case  she  is  the  woman  I  am  going  to  arrest." 

"  That  woman  is  Citizeness  Tournay,  my  wife. 
You  cannot  arrest  her  on  that  warrant,  Citizen 
Gardin." 

As  the  colonel  spoke  these  words,  which  he  did 
slowly  and  deliberately,  Mademoiselle  de  Roche- 
fort  drew  a  quick,  short  breath. 

"  It  is  a  trick,"  cried  Gardin  savagely;  "you  are 
trying  to  save  her  by  a  subterfuge." 

Tournay  repeated  coolly,  "  She  is  my  wife,  and 
I  am  Robert  Tournay,  colonel  in  the  Army  of  the 
Moselle.  Again  I  advise  you  not  to  try  to  arrest 
her  without  a  warrant." 

"And  I  say  again  it  is  a  lying  trick,"  cried 
Gardin,  beside  himself  with  rage.  "  You  cannot 
save  your  aristocratic  sweetheart  this  way,  citizen 
colonel.  The  Republic  demands  her  arrest  and  I 
mean  to  take  her." 

"Citizen  Ambrose,"  said  Tournay,  turning  to 
the  priest,  "  is  not  this  woman  my  wife  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly,"  said  the  old  priest,  coming 
forward  with  dignity ;  "  this  lady  is  Madame 
Robert  Tournay." 

"  Madame  !  "  cried  Gardin,  repeating  the  word 
in  a  rage.  "  There  are  no  ladies  in  France  now, 


A  BROKEN  DOOR  81 

and  all  priests  are  liars.  This  is  a  trick,  and  you, 
citizen  colonel,  shall  answer  for  it.  Out  of  my 
way  !  "  He  grasped  Tournay  by  the  lapel  of  his 
coat,  and  twisting  his  fingers  into  the  cloth  endeav 
ored  to  force  the  colonel  to  one  side.  There  was 
a  sharp  struggle,  then  Tournay  threw  him  off  with 
such  violence  as  to  send  him  staggering  across 
the  room.  His  head  struck  the  sharp  edge  of  a 
mahogany  cabinet  as  he  reeled  backward,  and  he 
rolled  senseless  to  the  floor. 

With  a  shout  of  rage  at  the  assault  upon  their 
leader  the  mob  rushed  forward  to  close  about 
Tournay.  But  he  was  too  quick  for  them ;  the 
muzzles  of  a  pair  of  pistols  met  them  as  they  ad 
vanced,  one  covering  Forgons,  who  was  in  front, 
the  other  leveled  at  the  men  behind  him. 

The  mob  cowered  and  fell  back  a  little.  Clubs, 
hammers,  and  knives  were  their  only  weapons, 
which  they  still  brandished  threateningly.  If  Tour- 
nay  had  shown  the  least  sign  of  flinching  he  would 
have  fallen  the  next  moment,  beaten  and  crushed 
to  death.  He  advanced  a  step  forward.  Before 
the  threatening  muzzles  of  the  steadily-aimed  pis 
tols,  the  men  recoiled  still  further,  and  were  quiet 
for  a  moment.  Tournay  seized  the  opportunity  to 
speak. 

"  This  fellow,"  he  cried  in  a  loud  voice,  point 
ing  to  Gardin,  "  has  dared  to  lay  hands  upon  an 
officer  of  the  Republican  army.  In  doing  so  he 
has  insulted  the  nation  and  deserves  death.  Is 
there  any  man  here  who  would  repeat  this  in 
sult?'* 


82  EGBERT  TOURNAY 

The  mob,  taken  by  surprise,  looked  at  their 
fallen  leader  and  then  at  the  two  shining  pistol- 
barrels  that  confronted  them,  and  remained  irreso 
lute.  Tournay  thought  he  heard  Edme  catch  her 
breath  quickly  when  the  answer  from  the  mob 
drowned  everything. 

"  No,  no !  There  are  none  here  who  would  insult 
the  nation !  " 

"  Citizens,  I  am  of  the  people,  like  yourselves. 
I  am  also  a  soldier  of  France.  I  have  fought  its 
battles,  I  wear  its  colors.  See! "  he  went  on,  taking 
off  his  hat  and  pointing  to  the  tricolor  cockade  — 
"  here  is  the  tricolor.  If  you  do  not  respect  that, 
you  insult  the  Kepublic.  Is  there  any  one  here 
who  would  dare  to  insult  the  Republic  ?  " 

"No,  no!"  came  in  quick  response.  "Long 
live  the  Republic !  " 

"  But  all  who  wear  the  tricolor  are  not  our 
friends,"  muttered  Forgons  uneasily. 

"  Citizens,"  continued  Tournay,  affecting  not 
to  hear,  "  Gardin  has  no  warrant  to  arrest  this 
woman,  who  is  not  an  aristocrat,  since  she  has 
become  my  wife,  the  Citizeness  Tournay.  As  for 
Gardin,  he  has  insulted  the  Republic.  He  has 
forfeited  the  right  to  lead  you.  In  the  name  of 
the  Republic  I  appoint  you,  Forgons,  the  secretary 
of  this  section.  To-night  I  return  to  Paris  and 
will  see  that  the  confirmation  of  your  appointment 
is  sent  you  at  once.  Now,  citizens,  take  up  this 
fellow,"  he  said,  pointing  to  Gardin.  "  He  shows 
signs  of  returning  consciousness.  A  little  cold 
water  pumped  over  his  head  will  bring  him  back 


A  BROKEN  DOOR  83 

to  life.     Come,  follow  me,  I  will  be  your  leader 
for  the  present." 

The  mob  took  up  the  body  and  bore  it  off,  cheer 
ing  loudly  for  the  Kepublic.  Forgons  went  with 
them  slowly,  shaking  his  head,  with  a  puzzled  ex 
pression  on  his  face. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  MAN  AND  A  MARQUIS 

COLONEL  TOURNAY  accompanied  the  crowd  of 
zealous  Republicans  who  had  been  the  followers 
of  Gardin,  until  he  saw  them  dispersed  to  their 
various  homes  or  noisily  installed  in  the  wine-room 
of  the  village  inn.  Then  he  rapidly  retraced  his 
steps  to  the  chateau. 

He  found  Mademoiselle  Rochefort  seated  in  the 
salon,  contemplating  half  mournfully,  half  disdain 
fully,  the  evidences  of  the  mob's  incursion,  which 
surrounded  her  in  the  shape  of  costly  pieces  of 
furniture  from  the  drawing-room,  now  marred  and 
broken ;  and  bottles  from  the  wine  cellars,  shat 
tered  and  strewn  upon  the  floor. 

She  did  not  make  any  movement  as  Tournay  en 
tered  the  room,  but  seemed  occupied  with  her  own 
thoughts;  and  for  a  few  moments  he  stood  in  silence, 
hesitating  to  speak,  as  if  the  communication  he  had 
to  make  required  more  tact  and  diplomacy  than 
for  the  moment  he  felt  himself  master  of. 

Finally,  approaching  her,  he  said  :  "  Mademoi 
selle,  the  immediate  danger  is  past.  You  have 
nothing  to  fear  for  the  present.  As  soon  as  you 
have  recovered  sufficiently  I  would  like  to  speak 
with  you." 


A  MAN  AND  A  MARQUIS  85 

She  let  her  hand  drop  from  her  forehead  and 
looked  up  at  him.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  but 
she  was  quite  composed  and  the  voice  was  firm 
with  which  she  answered  :  — 

"  I  am  able  to  hear  you  now,  Eobert  Tournay." 

He  drew  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  She  has  the  de 
Kochefort  spirit,"  he  thought. 

"  All  is  quiet  now,"  he  said.  "  But  when  Gar- 
din  fully  recovers  consciousness  I  fear  he  will  ex 
cite  his  followers  to  further  violence.  It  will  be 
unsafe  for  you  to  remain  here."  As  she  did  not 
answer,  he  continued,  —  "I  have  made  arrange 
ments,  mademoiselle,  to  conduct  you  to  the  Ger 
man  frontier.  Can  you  prepare  to  accompany  me 
at  once?" 

"  I  am  prepared  to  leave  here  at  once  —  but  — 
I  cannot  go  with  you.  It  is  better  that  I  go 
alone,"  Mademoiselle  de  Eochefort  replied. 

"  Alone  !  It  would  be  folly  in  you  to  attempt  it. 
Do  you  suppose  that  I  could  stand  quietly  by  and 
see  you  incur  such  a  danger  ?  " 

Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort's  eyes,  at  all  other 
times  so  frank  and  fearless,  did  not  meet  his  ear 
nest  gaze ;  she  answered  him  hastily,  as  one  who 
would  have  an  unpleasant  interview  come  to  a 
speedy  end :  — 

"  You  have  saved  me  from  a  great  danger.  Be 
lieve  me,  I  am  not  ungrateful.  You  have  already 
done  too  much.  I  cannot  accept  anything  more 
from  you.  Pray  leave  me  now  to  go  my  own 
way." 

"  That  is  impossible,  mademoiselle ;  I  shall  only 


86  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

leave  you  when  you  are  across  the  frontier.  Trav 
eling  as  my  wife,  under  the  passports  that  I  have 
secured,  the  journey  can  be  made  in  comparative 
safety,  provided  always  that  we  start  in  time." 

At  the  words  "  my  wife  "  Mademoiselle  de 
Kochefort  started,  but  she  only  repeated  :  — 

"  I  cannot  go  with  you." 

"  But,"  ejaculated  Tournay,  "  I  don't  under 
stand  ;  it  was  agreed  "  — 

She  looked  up  at  him.  "  I  agreed  to  permit  you 
to  tell  those  wretches  that  I  was  your  wife,  Father 
Ambrose,  your  father,  and  you,  all  protesting  that 
it  was  the  only  way  to  prevent  them  from  destroy 
ing  the  chateau  and  those  within  it.  But  you  also 
said  that  the  marriage  would  not  be  considered 
valid,  and  as  soon  as  the  danger  was  over  you 
would  go  away." 

"  I  said,"  answered  Tournay  quietly,  "  that  I 
should  in  no  way  consider  the  marriage  valid; 
that  when  I  had  once  taken  you  to  a  place  of 
safety  I  should  leave  you.  But  until  then  I  shall 
remain  by  your  side." 

"  Some  one  said  you  would  go  away  at  once, 
either  your  father  or  the  priest,  and  so  I  yielded. 
Now  you  tell  me  I  must  go  away  with  you,  and  " 
—  she  hesitated  at  the  words,  "  be  known  as  your 
wife." 

"  But  no  one  will  know  who  you  are,"  said 
Tournay  earnestly.  "The  carriage  will  be  a 
closed  one  —  you  shall  have  Agatha  with  you. 
No  one  shall  be  allowed  to  intrude  upon  you. 
Three  or  four  days  will  bring  us  to  the  frontier. 


A  MAN  AND  A  MARQUIS  87 

As  soon  as  you  are  there,  and  in  the  care  of  some 
of  your  friends  who  have  already  emigrated,  I  will 
leave  you.  Cannot  you  trust  me  three  days  ?  "  he 
asked  sorrowfully. 

"  I  cannot  go  with  you,"  she  repeated.  "  You 
are  of  the  Republic  —  I  have  already  accepted  too 
much  from  your  hands.  Can  I  forget  that  those 
hands  which  you  now  stretch  out  to  aid  me  have 
helped  to  tear  down  a  throne  ?  that  like  all  the 
Republicans,  you  share  the  guilt  of  a  king's 
murder?" 

"  I  am  only  guilty  of  loving  France  more  than 
the  king.  I  did  help  to  destroy  a  monarchy,  but 
it  was  to  build  up  a  Republic." 

"  Then,  instead  of  aiding,  you  should  denounce 
me.  I  am  of  the  Monarchy  and  I  hate  your  Re 
public,"  she  said  defiantly.  "  I  will  accept  protec 
tion  from  one  of  my  own  order  or  trust  to  God 
and  my  own  efforts  to  preserve  me." 

"  Where  are  those  of  your  own  order  ? "  de 
manded  Tournay  bitterly.  "They  are  scattered 
like  leaves.  Some  have  taken  refuge  in  England 
or  in  Prussia.  Some  are  hiding  here  in  France. 
Your  own  class  fail  you  in  the  time  of  need." 

"  They  do  not  fail,"  cried  Edme.  "  If  none  are 
here  it  is  because  they  are  risking  their  lives  else 
where  for  our  unhappy  and  hopeless  cause;  or 
languishing  in  your  Republican  prisons  where 
so  many  of  the  chivalry  of  France  lie  awaiting 
death." 

As  if  the  thought  goaded  her  to  desperation  she 
added  fiercely,  "Where  I  will  join  them  rather 


88  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

than  purchase  my  freedom  at  the  price  you  pro 
pose." 

"  Mademoiselle,"  said  Tournay  calmly  but  with 
great  firmness,  "  listen  to  reason.  There  is  no 
time  for  lengthy  explanation.  I  am  actuated  only 
by  a  desire  for  your  safety.  You  must  accompany 
me  hence.  I  shall  take  you  away  with  me." 

Edme  arose  and  confronted  him  with  a  look  of 
scorn.  "  I  stood  here  a  short  time  ago,"  she  said, 
"and  before  all  that  rabble  heard  myself  pro 
claimed  your  wife ;  I,  Edme  de  Rochefort,  called  a 
wife  of  a  Republican  —  one  of  their  number.  Oh, 
the  shame  of  it !  What  would  my  father  have 
said  if  he  had  heard  that  I  owed  my  life  to  a  man 
steeped  in  the  blood  of  the  Revolution?  That 
his  daughter  consented  to  be  called  the  wife  of 
her  steward's  son !  a  man  of  ignoble  birth,  a  ser 
vant  "  — 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  Tournay,  the  blood  mounting  to 
his  forehead.  "  Stop !  It  is  true  that  those  of  my 
blood  have  served  your  family  for  generations.  It 
was  one  of  my  blood,  I  have  heard  it  told,  who  in 
days  gone  by  gave  up  his  life  for  one  of  your  an 
cestors  upon  the  field  of  battle.  Was  that  igno 
ble  ?  My  father  served  yours  faithfully  during  a 
long  life;  was  that  ignoble?  So  have  I,  in  my 
turn,  served  you.  I  was  born  to  the  position,  but 
I  served  you  proudly,  not  ignobly.  In  speaking 
thus,  you  wrong  yourself  more  than  you  do  me, 
mademoiselle." 

The  suddenness  of  his  outburst  silenced  her. 
He  saw  that  her  bosom  heaved  convulsively.  He 


STOP!"    CRIED  TOURNAY 


A  MAN  AND  A  MARQUIS  89 

could  not  guess  the  conflicting  emotions  in  her 
breast;  her  pride  struggling  with  her  gratitude; 
her  horror  and  detestation  of  the  Republic  con 
tending  with  her  admiration  for  his  brave  bearing 
in  the  face  of  danger ;  but  as  he  looked  at  her, 
slight  and  girlish,  standing  there  before  him  with 
flushed  cheeks,  as  he  saw  the  fire  flash  in  her  eyes 
although  her  hands  trembled,  he  realized  keenly 
how  young,  how  defenseless  she  was,  and  his  sud 
den  burst  of  anger  subsided.  Her  very  pride 
moved  him  to  pity  by  its  impotence,  and  his  heart 
yearned  to  be  permitted  to  protect  her  from  all 
the  dangers  which  threatened  her. 

In  a  voice  that  trembled  with  emotion  he  went 
on:  — 

"Mademoiselle,  I  have  known  you  since  you 
were  a  child,  and  I  have  served  you  faithfully. 
Your  wishes,  your  caprices  have  been  my  law.  It 
was  no  galling  servitude  to  me,  mademoiselle,  for 
mine  was  a  service  of  love."  He  uttered  the  last 
words  almost  in  a  whisper,  then  stopped  suddenly, 
as  if  the  avowal  had  slipped  from  his  lips  unwit 
tingly. 

Mademoiselle  de  Eochefort  started;  while  he 
spoke  she  had  turned  away ;  so  he  could  not  see 
her  face,  but  he  could  imagine  the  look  of  disdain 
and  scorn  with  which  she  had  listened. 

"  Yes,  I  dared  to  love  you,"  he  continued.  "  I 
never  meant  to  tell  you,  but  now  that  the  avowal 
has  slipped  from  my  lips  I  would  have  you  know 
that  I  always  loved  you.  That  is  why  I  am  here 
now,  pleading  with  you,  not  for  your  love,  for  that 


90  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

I  know  never  can  be  mine,  but  for  your  safety, 
your  life."  She  remained  silent,  and  he  contin 
ued,  speaking  rapidly,  —  "  You  have  said  that  a 
king's  blood  is  upon  my  hands.  His  death  was 
necessary  and  I  do  not  regret  it."  Edme  shud 
dered  and  letting  herself  sink  back  into  a  chair  sat 
there  with  her  head  resting  on  her  hand,  while  she 
still  kept  her  face  turned  from  him.  "  I  do  not 
regret  it,  because  it  has  given  us  the  Republic. 
I  glory  in  the  Republic  which  has  made  me  your 
equal."  Bending  over  her,  he  said  in  a  low  voice, 
"  I  love  you  and  am  worthy  of  your  love.  Made 
moiselle,  listen  to  me.  Come  with  me  while  there 
is  yet  time.  Give  me  but  the  right  to  be  your  pro 
tector.  I  will  protect  you  as  the  man  guards  the 
object  of  his  purest,  his  deepest  affection."  In 
his  fervor  he  bent  over  her  until  his  lips  almost 
touched  her  hair.  "  I  will  win  a  name  that  even 
you  will  be  proud  to  own.  Edme,  come  with  me. 
It  is  the  love  of  years  that  speaks  to  you  thus  — 
Come !  "  and  he  took  her  hand  in  his.  As  his 
fingers  closed  upon  hers  she  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  Do  not  touch  me,"  she  cried,  with  a  tone  al 
most  of  terror.  "  I  will  hear  no  more.  I  cannot 
bear  it.  I  cannot  bear  to  see  you.  Go !  for  the 
love  of  heaven,  leave  me." 

For  a  moment  Tournay  stood  still.  Her  words 
wounded  him  to  the  quick,  yet  as  they  stabbed 
deepest,  he  loved  her  the  more.  Without  speak 
ing  again  he  turned  and  left  her.  As  he  descended 
the  stairs  and  passed  out  through  the  broken  door 
way  he  vowed  within  himself  that  despite  her  pride, 


A  MAN  AND   A  MARQUIS  91 

despite  what  she  might  say  or  do,  he  would  yet 
find  means  to  save  her. 

An  hour  passed,  and  Edme  remained  in  the 
salon  where  Tournay  had  left  her.  The  spirit 
she  had  shown  a  short  time  before  seemed  much 
subdued.  Darkness  had  settled  down  over  the 
room,  and  she  felt  herself  alone  and  deserted.  A 
current  of  air,  coming  through  the  broken  door 
way,  swept  up  the  stairs  into  the  apartment,  chill 
ing  her  with  its  cold  breath.  She  wondered  what 
had  become  of  Father  Ambrose  and  old  Matthieu, 
and  whether  Agatha  had  deserted  her.  Yet  she 
did  not  seek  for  them.  Indeed,  she  did  not  know 
where  to  find  them,  for  the  house  had  all  the  silence 
of  emptiness. 

She  tried  to  plan  what  she  should  do  in  case  she 
had  been  entirely  abandoned,  but  her  brain,  usu 
ally  so  active,  seemed  benumbed.  She  could  not 
think.  Conscious  that  she  must  shake  off  this 
feeling  of  helplessness,  she  was  about  to  rise  and 
go  in  search  of  a  light,  when  she  heard  a  footstep 
outside  in  the  corridor.  "  Agatha  has  come  back," 
she  thought,  and  stepped  forward  to  meet  her 
maid.  The  sound  of  footsteps  approached  until 
they  reached  the  door  of  the  salon ;  there  they 
seemed  to  hesitate. 

Edme  was  on  the  point  of  calling  Agatha  by 
name,  when  the  door  was  pushed  open  and  a  man 
entered  and  passed  stealthily  across  the  floor  of 
the  salon  into  the  ante-chamber  without  noticing 
her  presence.  Edme  thrust  her  hand  over  her 
mouth  to  stifle  the  cry  that  was  upon  her  lips. 


92  ROBERT,  TOURNAY 

The  man  was  evidently  familiar  with  the  sur 
roundings,  for  almost  immediately  the  light  of  a 
candle  shone  out  from  the  ante-room,  throwing 
a  faint  glow  upon  the  polished  floor  of  the  salon. 
Edme  had  seen  him  very  imperfectly  in  the  dark 
ness.  She  was  uncertain  whether  he  was  one  of 
the  mob,  returned  alone  for  plunder,  or  one  of  the 
lackeys  of  her  household  who  had  got  the  better 
of  his  terror  and  returned  to  the  chateau. 

Unable  to  bear  the  suspense,  she  advanced  to 
ward  the  door  of  the  ante-room.  Her  heart  beat 
rapidly  as  she  placed  her  hand  upon  the  door,  which 
had  been  left  ajar.  She  hesitated  one  moment,  then 
summoning  up  the  courage  that  had  sustained  her 
during  the  whole  of  that  terrible  afternoon,  she 
boldly  pushed  the  door  open  and  looked  into  the 
room.  To  her  amazement  she  saw,  bending  over 
a  cabinet,  her  cousin,  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville. 
The  marquis  held  a  candle  in  one  hand  while  he 
searched  hurriedly  for  something  in  the  drawer  of 
the  cabinet.  In  his  haste  and  anxiety  he  threw 
out  the  contents  of  each  drawer  as  he  opened  it 
till  the  floor  was  littered  with  papers.  So  intent 
was  he  upon  his  search  that  he  did  not  hear 
Edme's  approach. 

"  Monsieur  de  Lacheville ! "  she  said  in  a  low 
tone.  Upon  hearing  his  name,  the  marquis  uttered 
a  cry  like  that  of  a  hunted  animal,  and  turning, 
confronted  her. 

"  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort,  you  here !  How 
you  startled  me !  "  he  exclaimed,  endeavoring  to 
control  himself  ;  but  his  knees  shook,  and  his  lips 
twitched  nervously. 


A  MAN  AND  A  MARQUIS  93 

"  Your  coming  gave  me  a  start  .also,  monsieur. 
You  glided  across  the  floor  of  the  salon  so  like  a 
phantom,  I  did  not  know  who  it  was,  nor  what 
to  think." 

"  I  have  just  arrived  from  Paris,  where  I  have 
been  in  hiding  for  months,"  he  stammered.  "  Upon 
seeing  the  doors  all  battered  down  and  the  fright 
ful  disorder  in  the  lower  halls,  I  thought  the  chateau 
must  be  deserted  and  that  you  had  sought  some 
place  of  refuge.  Knowing  that  in  times  past  the 
baron,  your  father,  was  in  the  habit  of  keeping 
money  in  this  old  secretary,  I  have  been  ransack 
ing  it  from  top  to  bottom.  I  have  need  of  a  con 
siderable  sum ;  but  I  find  nothing  here  —  not  a 
sou." 

Edme  noticed  that  his  dress  was  in  great  dis 
order  and  that  his  face  was  pale  and  haggard. 
Every  few  moments  he  put  up  his  hand  in  an  at 
tempt  to  stop  the  nervous  twitching  of  the  mouth 
which  he  seemed  unable  to  control. 

"  My  nerves  have  been  much  shaken  lately,"  he 
said,  as  she  looked  at  him  with  wonder.  And  then 
he  laughed  discordantly.  The  sound  of  the  mirth 
less  laughter,  accompanied  by  no  change  in  the 
expression  of  his  face,  was  painful  to  Edme's  ears. 

"I  have  been  pursued,"  he  said,  "hunted  in 
Paris  like  a  dog,  but  I  have  given  them  the  slip ; 
they  shall  not  overtake  me  now."  The  wild  look 
in  his  eyes  became  more  intense.  "  I  am  going 
to  leave  France ;  I  have  a  friend  whom  I  can  trust 
waiting  for  me  near  at  hand.  Together  in  dis 
guise  we  are  going  to  the  frontier  —  either  to  Bel- 


94  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

gium  or  Germany.  We  shall  be  safe  there.  But 
I  must  have  some  more  ^money,  money  for  our 
journey."  His  fear  had  so  bereft  him  of  his  reason 
that  he  apparently  forgot  the  presence  of  his  cousin, 
the  mistress  of  the  house,  and  turned  once  more 
to  the  old  writing-desk  to  recommence  his  search 
with  feverish  haste. 

"  To  Germany !  "  cried  Edme  joyfully.  "  You 
are  going  to  Germany  ?  then  you  can  take  me  with 
you.  We  can  leave  this  unhappy  bloodstained 
country  for  a  land  of  law  and  order." 

The  marquis  turned  upon  her  sharply. 

"  Why  did  not  your  father  take  you  with  him 
to  England  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Why  ?  You  have  no  need  to  ask  the  question. 
He  went  upon  some  secret  business  for  King  Louis. 
He  went  away  unexpectedly.  When  he  left  he 
imagined  that  I,  a  woman,  living  in  quiet  seclu 
sion,  would  be  perfectly  safe,  notwithstanding  the 
disordered  state  of  the  country  even  at  that  time." 

"  Can  you  not  find  a  place  of  refuge  with  some 
friend  here  in  France?"  asked  de  Lacheville. 
"The  journey  I  am  about  to  undertake  will  be 
full  of  danger  and  fatigue." 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  danger,"  replied  Edme, 
"  and  as  for  fatigue,  I  am  strong  and  able  to  sup 
port  it." 

"  But,"  persisted  de  Lacheville,  "  if  you  could 
find  some  suitable  refuge  here  it  would  be  so  much 
better." 

"  I  cannot,"  retorted  Edme,  in  a  decided  tone 
of  voice,  "  and  I  prefer  to  accompany  you  to  Ger- 


A  MAN  AND  A  MARQUIS  95 

many,  although  it  seems  to  me  that  you  offer  your 
escort  somewhat  reluctantly." 

"  The  fact  is,  Cousin  Edme,"  replied  the  mar 
quis,  "I  cannot  take  you  with  me.  Alone,  my 
escape  will  be  difficult ;  with  you  it  will  be  impos 
sible." 

Edme  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  with  open- 
eyed  wonder,  then  she  repeated  the  word.  "  Impos 
sible  !  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you,  a  kinsman, 
are  going  to  leave  me  here  to  meet  whatever  fate 
may  befall  me,  while  you  save  yourself  by  flight?" 

"  No,  no,  you  do  not  understand  me,"  the  mar 
quis  replied,  his  pale  face  flushing.  "  It  is  for 
your  own  sake  that  I  cannot  take  you.  It  will  mean 
almost  certain  capture.  If,  as  I  said  before,  you 
could  remain  in  some  place  of  safety  in  France 
for  a  little  while  "  — 

"  I  am  ready  to  run  whatever  risk  you  do,"  re 
plied  the  girl  coolly.  "  When  do  you  start  ?  " 

"  Mademoiselle,  this  is  madness,"  exclaimed  de 
Lacheville,  pacing  the  floor.  "  Can  you  not  listen 
to  reason  ?  " 

The  sound  of  shouting  in  the  distance  caused 
him  to  stop  suddenly  and  run  to  the  window.  The 
candle  had  burned  down  to  the  socket  and  went 
out  with  a  few  last  feeble  flickers.  The  cries  of 
Gardin's  ruffians  were  borne  to  him  on  the  wind. 

The  slight  composure  which  he  had  managed  to 
regain  during  his  talk  with  Edme  left  him  again, 
and  he  turned  toward  her,  the  trembling,  shaking 
coward  that  he  was  when  she  had  first  discovered 
him. 


96  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Do  you  hear  that  ? "  he  whispered,  his  hand 
shaking  as  he  put  it  to  his  lips. 

"  I  have  heard  it  in  this  very  room  to-day,"  re 
plied  Edme,  looking  at  him  with  disdain. 

"They  are  coming  here  again,"  he  whispered 
hoarsely.  "  But  they  shall  not  find  me,"  he  ex 
claimed  fiercely,  clenching  his  fist  and  shaking  it 
in  a  weak  menace  toward  the  spot  whence  the 
sound  came.  "  I  have  a  swift  horse  in  the  court 
yard  beneath.  In  an  hour  I  shall  be  safe  from 
them,"  and  he  prepared  to  leave  the  room. 

The  ordeal  of  the  afternoon  had  told  on  Edme's 
nerves  and  the  thought  of  being  left  alone  again 
made  her  desperate. 

"  You  shall  not  leave  me  here  alone,"  she  cried, 
seizing  his  arm.  "  You  were  born  a  man  —  be 
have  like  one.  Devise  some  means  to  take  me 
from  this  place  at  once.  Do  not  leave  me  alone 
to  face  those  wretches  again,  or  I  shall  believe 
you  are  a  coward." 

De  Lacheville  roughly  released  himself  from 
her  grasp. 

"  I  care  not  what  you  think  of  me,"  he  snarled. 
"It  is  each  for  himself.  I  cannot  imperil  my 
safety  for  a  woman.  I  must  escape."  And  he 
rushed  from  the  room. 

She  heard  the  crunching  of  his  horses'  feet  upon 
the  gravel,  and  going  to  the  window  saw  him  ride 
rapidly  away.  The  remembrance  of  the  young 
Republican  leader  offering  to  risk  his  life  for  her, 
and  the  cowering  figure  of  her  cousin,  indifferent 
to  all  but  his  own  safety,  flashed  before  her  in 


A  MAN  AND  A  MARQUIS  97 

quick  contrast.  She  turned  away  from  the  win 
dow  to  find  herself  in  the  arms  of  Agatha,  who 
had  at  that  moment  returned. 

"  Agatha,"  she  exclaimed,  "  do  your  hear  those 
hoof-beats?  Monsieur  de  Lacheville  is  running; 

O 

away.  He,  a  nobleman,  is  a  coward  and  flies  from 
danger,  while  another  man,  a  Eepublican  —  oh, 
Agatha,  Agatha,  what  are  we  to  do  ?  whom  are  we 
to  believe  ;  in  whom  should  we  trust  ?  " 

"  Calm  yourself,  mademoiselle,"  replied  Agatha, 
"  and  think  only  of  what  I  have  to  tell  you.  Lis 
ten  to  me  closely.  We  must  leave  at  once.  I 
have  a  plan  of  flight.  I  have  been  making  a  few 
hurried  preparations." 

"  True,  Agatha,  in  my  bewilderment  and  anger, 
I  forgot  for  the  moment  the  danger  we  incur  by 
remaining  here.  Where  are  Father  Ambrose  and 
Matthieu  ?  " 

"  Matthieu  is  here  in  the  chateau ;  he  says  he 
will  never  desert  you  as  long  as  you  can  have  need 
of  his  poor  services.  Father  Ambrose  has  dis 
appeared,  but  I  think  he  is  in  a  place  of  safety. 
But  now  you  are  to  be  thought  of.  Will  you 
trust  me  ?  " 

"  How  can  you  ask  that,  Agatha  ?  Have  you 
not  always  proved  faithful  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  can  you  trust  me  to  lead,  and  will  you 
follow  and  be  guided  by  my  suggestions  ?  " 

"  I  will  do  just  as  you  may  direct.  I  know  you 
have  a  wise  head,  Agatha." 

"  This  is  my  plan,  then,"  continued  the  maid ; 
"  listen  carefully  while  I  tell  it  to  you." 


98  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

An  hour  later  the  two  women,  dressed  as  peas 
ants,  with  faces  and  hands  brown  from  apparent 
exposure  to  the  sun  in  the  hayfield,  left  the  park 
behind  the  chateau  de  Rochefort,  and  made  their 
way  along  a  hedge-bound  lane  that  wound  through 
the  fields.  As  they  reached  the  crest  of  a  hill  they 
stopped  and  looked  back  at  the  chateau.  A  red 
glow  appeared  in  the  eastern  sky. 

"  Look,  Agatha,"  said  Edme",  "  morning  is  com 
ing,  the  sun  is  about  to  rise." 

Suddenly  the  glow  leaped  into  a  broad  flame 
which  lit  up  the  whole  sky. 

"  'T  is  the  chateau  on  fire !  "  cried  both  women 
in  one  breath,  and  clinging  to  each  other  they 
stood  and  watched  it  burn. 


CHAPTER  VII 

GAILLAED  GOES   ON  A  JOURNEY 

THE  first  object  that  Robert  Tournay  saw  as  he 
rode  into  the  inn  yard  at  La  Thierry  was  a  horse 
reeking  with  sweat.  The  next  moment  he  was 
greeted  by  the  smiling  face  of  Gaillard,  who  came 
out  of  the  inn.  "  Have  you  brought  the  pass 
port  ?  "  cried  Tournay  eagerly,  as  he  grasped  his 
friend  by  the  hand. 

For  reply  Gaillard  took  a  paper  from  his  pocket, 
unfolded  it,  and  disclosed  the  seal  of  the  Commit 
tee  of  Public  Safety.  "  Am  I  in  time  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  I  have  ridden  post  haste  to  get  here  with  it. 
Can  I  serve  you  further  ?  " 

"  Come  into  the  inn,  and  I  '11  tell  you,"  replied 
Tournay.  "  I  am  almost  exhausted  and  must  have 
something  to  eat." 

Ordering  some  supper  and  a  bottle  of  wine, 
which  were  brought  at  once,  Tournay  helped  Gail 
lard  and  himself  bountifully.  They  ate  and  drank 
for  a  few  minutes  in  silence,  Gaillard  waiting  for 
him  to  speak. 

Gaillard  was  rather  short  in  stature,  with  a  pair 
of  broad,  athletic  shoulders.  His  face  was 
freckled,  and  animated  by  a  pair  of  particularly 
active  blue  eyes.  A  large  mouth,  instead  of  add- 


100  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

ing  to  his  plainness,  was  rather  attractive  than 
otherwise,  for  on  all  occasions  it  would  widen  into 
the  most  encouraging,  good-natured  smile,  showing 
two  rows  of  regular,  white  teeth,  firmly  set  in  a 
strong  jaw. 

After  he  had  partaken  of  a  little  food  and  drink, 
Tournay  recounted  to  Gaillard  the  substance  of 
what  had  taken  place  at  the  chateau,  leaving  out 
most  of  his  final  interview  with  Edme  de  Roche- 
fort,  but  dwelling  on  her  flat  refusal  to  accept  his 
escort  to  the  frontier. 

The  actor  listened  to  him  intently  and  in  silence ; 
his  face,  usually  humorous,  expressive  of  deep  and 
earnest  thought. 

"  Now  what  do  you  advise  ?  "  asked  Tournay,  as 
he  pushed  back  his  plate  and  emptied  the  last  of 
the  wine  into  Gaillard's  glass. 

"  What  plan  have  you  ?  "  questioned  Gaillard. 

"  I  mean  to  take  her  away  from  here  at  all  haz 
ards,"  answered  Tournay. 

"  Quite  right,"  nodded  Gaillard. 

"  But  I  can't  very  well  pick  her  up  and  carry 
her  off  bodily,"  continued  Tournay.  "  And  if  I 
did  she  would  be  quite  capable  of  surrendering 
herself  into  the  hands  of  the  first  committee  in  the 
first  town  where  they  stop  us  to  examine  our  pass 
port." 

"Then  we  must  induce  her  to  go  of  her  own 
free  will." 

"  Which  she  will  not  do,"  replied  Tournay 
gloomily. 

"It    seems   to    me,"    said    Gaillard,    speaking 


GAILLARD  GOES  ON  A  JOURNEY         101 

slowly,  while  he  held  his  glass  of  wine  to  the  light 
and  inspected  it  minutely,  "that  if  some  one 
should  approach  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort,  pur 
porting  to  come  from  some  of  her  friends  who 
have  already  gone  abroad,  and  should  say  he  was 
sent  secretly  to  conduct  her  to  them,  she  would  be 
willing  to  go  with  him." 

"  Unless  she  suspected  him  to  be  an  impostor, 
she  might  possibly  go,"  replied  Tournay. 

"  He  will  have  to  convince  her  that  he  is  not  an 
impostor,  and  after  a  night  spent  in  the  chateau 
alone  she  is  more  likely  to  believe  in  him,"  was 
Gaillard's  reply.  "  How  about  Gardin,"  he  asked 
suddenly.  "  Do  you  anticipate  any  further  trou 
ble  from  that  quarter  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  think  so,"  replied  Tournay.  "  I  shall 
go  back  to  the  chateau  at  once  and  remain  in  the 
vicinity  all  night  unknown  to  Mademoiselle  de 
Rochefort.  See  if  you  cannot  procure  a  carriage 
here  suitable  for  a  long  journey.  Then  come  up 
the  chateau  road.  I  shall  be  in  waiting  for  you 
at  the  entrance  to  the  park.  We  will  confer  to 
gether  as  to  a  plan  of  action  to  be  carried  out  at 
daylight." 

"  Good,"  replied  Gaillard ;  "  I  will  set  about  my 
part  of  the  work  at  once." 

The  'two  men  rose  from  the  table  ;  Gaillard  went 
to  the  inn  stables  and  Tournay  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  toward  the  chateau. 

He  had  not  made  half  the  distance  between  the 
village  and  the  chateau  when  he  heard  a  footstep 
crunch  on  the  gravel  of  the  road,  and  reined 


102  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

in  his  horse  just  as  the  figure  of  a  man  crept  by 
him. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  cried  Tournay,  clicking  the 
hammer  of  his  pistol. 

"A  good  citizen,"  was  the  reply  in  a  timid 
voice. 

"  Father,  is  it  you  ?  "  exclaimed  Tournay,  spring 
ing  from  his  horse  and  approaching  the  figure. 
"  Is  all  well  at  the  chateau  ?  " 

"  It  is  my  son  Robert,"  cried  the  old  man.  "  I 
did  not  recognize  your  voice  until  after  I  had 
spoken ;  but  I  am  no  good  citizen  of  your  present 
disorderly  Republic."  v 

"  Is  all  well  at  the  chateau  ?  "  repeated  Robert 
Tournay. 

"Well?  How  can  we  all  be  well  when  the 
doors  are  broken  in  and  the  furniture  strewn 
about  the  place  in  pieces  ?  Can  I  call  all  well 
when  "  — 

"Mademoiselle  Edme?"  interrupted  Robert, 
with  impatience,  "  how  about  her  ?  " 

"  She  has  gone,"  said  Matthieu  Tournay. 

"  Gone !  "  cried  Robert,  clutching  his  father  by 
the  shoulder.  "  Gone  —  how  and  where  ?  " 

"  You  need  not  be  alarmed  for  her  safety,"  said 
the  old  man;  "she  is  with  Agatha,  —  a  brave, 
clever  girl,  capable  of  anything.  They  set  out 
this  very  night  to  seek  a  refuge  with  some  rela 
tives  of  Agatha  who  will  keep  them  in  safety." 

"  And  you  permitted  them  to  go  ? "  demanded 
the  younger  Tournay,  almost  shaking  his  father 
in  his  excitement. 


GAILLARD  GOES  ON  A  JOURNEY         103 

"  Permitted  them  ?  Yes,  and  encouraged  them. 
I  would  myself  have  gone  with  them  if  I  had  not 
feared  that  my  feebleness  would  impede  rather 
than  assist  their  flight.  As  it  is,  you  need  have 
no  apprehension ;  when  Agatha  undertakes  a  thing 
she  carries  it  through,  and  mademoiselle  also  is 
resolute  and  strong  -  willed.  They  will  be  safe 
enough,  I  warrant." 

"  Where  did  they  go  ?  "  asked  Robert. 

"  I  Ve  promised  not  to  tell,"  said  the  old  man 
doggedly. 

"  Father,"  exclaimed  young  Tournay,  "  do  you 
not  see  how  important  it  is  that  I  should  know 
where  they  have  gone  ?  If  you  have  any  affection 
for  mademoiselle  you  will  tell  me.  Cannot  you 
trust  your  own  son?" 

"  Will  you  promise  not  to  prevent  their  going  ?  " 
replied  the  old  man. 

Tournay  thought  for  a  moment.     "  Yes." 

"To  La  Haye,  in  the  province  of  Touraine, 
near  the  boundary  of  La  Vendee." 

"  Will  they  reach  there  in  safety  ? "  inquired 
Tournay,  half  to  himself. 

"  You  need  have  no  alarm  on  that  score.  They 
have  disguised  themselves  as  peasants;  no  one 
will  be  able  to  recognize  them.  Look ! "  he  added 
suddenly,  pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  chateau. 

A  tongue  of  flame  shot  into  the  night  air,  then 
another  and  another  followed  in  quick  succession. 

"  Is  the  chateau  on  fire  ?  "  cried  Robert  in  con 
sternation. 

As  if  in  answer  the  flames  burst  fiercely  forth, 


104  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

and  the  noble  old  pile  stood  revealed  to  them  by 
the  light  of  the  fire  that  consumed  it. 

The  surrounding  landscape  became  brilliant  as 
day,  and  the  great  oaks  of  the  park  waved  their 
bare  branches  frantically  in  the  direction  of  the 
edifice  they  had  sheltered  so  many  years ;  seeming 
to  sigh  pityingly  as  one  turret  after  another  fell 
crashing  to  the  ground. 

Young  Tournay  looked  around  to  see  if  any  of 
the  attacking  party  were  still  lurking  in  the  vicin 
ity;  but  with  the  exception  of  himself  and  his 
father,  no  human  eye  was  witness  of  the  burning. 

"  Gardin's  men  must  have  ignited  that  during 
their  drunken  invasion  of  the  wine-cellar,"  he 
exclaimed  excitedly.  Then  in  the  next  breath 
he  added,  "  Thank  God !  Mademoiselle  has  been 
spared  this  sight" 

Old  Tournay  stood  looking  at  the  conflagration 
in  silence ;  then  turning  away  with  a  sigh,  he  said 
simply,  "  There  goes  the  only  home  I  have  ever 
known  ;  where  my  father  lived  before  me  and 
where  you  were  born,  Robert.  I  must  now  find  a 
new  place  to  pass  what  few  days  of  life  remain  to 
me." 

Tournay  laid  his  hand  on  his  father's  arm. 
"  Will  you  come  with  me  to  Paris  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  no,"  replied  his  father.  "  I  am  not  in 
sympathy  with  Paris,  Robert,  nor  with  your  ways. 
I  don't  understand  them,  boy.  It  may  be  all  right 
for  you.  I  know  you  are  a  good  son,  you  have 
always  been  that,  but  I  shall  find  a  shelter  in  La 
Thierry.  None  will  molest  an  old  man  like  me." 


GAILLARD  GOES  ON   A  JOURNEY        105 

Leading  his  horse  by  the  bridle,  Tournay 
walked  back  to  the  village  with  his  father.  On 
the  way  they  were  met  by  Gaillard,  who  had  seen 
the  flames  and  had  guessed  their  meaning. 

Robert  Tournay  explained  the  situation  to  him 
as  they  all  went  back  to  the  inn.  Greatly  in  need 
of  rest,  Robert  threw  himself  down  to  wait  until 
the  morrow. 

They  were  up  with  the  dawn,  when  Gaillard 
had  a  new  suggestion  to  offer. 

"  You  must  return  at  once  to  Paris,  my  friend, 
for  you  must  arrive  there  before  Gardin.  You 
will  need  all  the  influence  of  your  own  military 
position  and  the  aid  of  your  most  powerful  friends 
to  enable  you  to  meet  the  charges  that  man  will 
bring  against  you  for  frustrating  the  arrest.  I 
will  try  to  find  mademoiselle  at  La  Haye,  and  will 
meet  you  at  our  lodgings  as  soon  as  possible." 

Robert  grasped  his  companion's  hand  warmly. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  your  friendship,  Gaillard." 

"  You  may  remember  it  as  long  as  you  like  if 
you  will  not  refer  to  it.  I  can  never  repay  you 
for  your  many  acts  of  friendship  toward  me." 

"But  your  profession,"  interrupted  Tournay, 
"how  can  you  leave  the  theatre  all  this  time? 
How  will  your  place  be  filled  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  filled  very  well.  I  arranged  all 
that  before  leaving ;  whether  I  shall  find  it  vacant 
or  not  when  I  return  is  another  matter.  But  it 
does  not  trouble  me ;  let  it  not  trouble  you,  my 
friend."  And  with  a  cheerful  wave  of  the  hand, 
Gaillard  departed. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
PERE  LOUCHET' s  GUESTS 

IN  the  southern  part  of  the  province  of  Touraine, 
in  the  village  of  La  Have,  lived  Pierre  Louchet,  or 
as  his  neighbors  called  him,  Pere  Louchet. 

Logically  speaking,  Louchet,  being  a  bachelor, 
had  no  right  to  this  title,  but  as  he  took  a  paternal 
interest  in  all  the  young  people  of  the  village,  they 
had  fitted  him  with  this  sobriquet,  partly  in  a  spirit 
of  gentle  irony  and  partly  in  affectionate  recogni 
tion  of  his  fatherly  attitude  toward  them. 

Pere  Louchet  lived  alone  in  a  little  cottage  that 
was  always  as  neat  and  well-kept  as  if  some  femi 
nine  hand  held  sway  there.  Indeed,  if  he  fell  sick, 
or  was  too  busy  with  the  crops  on  his  small  farm 
to  pay  proper  attention  to  his  household  duties, 
there  were  plenty  of  women  from  the  neighboring 
cottages  who  were  glad  to  come  in  and  make  his 
gruel  or  sweep  up  his  hearth,  so  it  was  not  on 
account  of  any  unpopularity  with  the  gentler  sex 
that  he  lived  on  in  a  state  of  celibacy. 

In  a  society  where  marriage  was  almost  univer 
sal,  such  an  eccentricity  as  that  exhibited  by  Pierre 
Louchet  in  remaining  single  did  not  escape  com 
ment.  Indeed  at  the  age  of  fifty  he  was  as  often 
bantered  on  the  subject  as  he  had  been  at  thirty. 


PfiRE  LOUCHET'S  GUESTS  107 

But  neither  the  raillery  and  innuendoes  of  the 
neighbors  nor  the  entreaties,  threats,  and  cajoleries 
of  his  sister,  Jeanne  Maillot,  had  ever  moved  him 
to  take  a  wife. 

"  It 's  a  family  disgrace,"  said  Jeanne,  putting 
her  red  hands  on  her  hips,  and  regarding  her  elder 
brother  with  a  look  of  scorn.  "  Here  am  I  ten 
years  younger  than  you,  and  with  five  children. 
And  Marie  who  lives  at  Fulgent  has  eight.  And 
you,  the  only  man  in  our  family,  sit  there  by  the 
chimney  and  smoke  your  pipe  contentedly,  and  let 
the  young  girls  of  La  Haye  grow  up  around  you 
one  after  another,  marry,  settle  down,  and  have 
daughters  who  are  old  enough  to  be  married  by 
this  time ;  and  you  do  nothing  to  keep  up  the 
name  of  Louchet." 

"  'T  is  not  much  of  a  name,"  replied  Pierre. 

"  It  is  one  your  father  had,  and  was  quite  good 
enough  for  me,  until  I  took  Maillot." 

"  If  I  should  marry,  there  would  be  less  for  your 
own  children  when  I  am  gone." 

"  I  'm  sure  it  was  your  happiness  I  was  thinking 
of  before  all,"  replied  Jeanne,  mollified  at  this 
presentation  of  the  case. 

"  If  it 's  my  happiness  you  are  thinking  about, 
let  me  stay  as  I  am.  I  and  my  pipe  are  quite  com 
pany  enough,  and  if  I  want  more  I  only  have  to 
step  across  a  field  and  I  can  find  you  and  your 
good  husband  Maillot."  And  Pere  Louchet 's  eyes 
would  twinkle  kindly  while  his  pipe  sent  up  a 
thicker  wreath  of  smoke. 

One   young  woman  once  declared   maliciously 


108  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

that  Pere  Louchet  squinted.  But  those  who  heard 
the  remark  declared  that  it  was  because  he  was 
always  endeavoring  to  look  in  any  direction  except 
towards  her  who  sought  to  attract  his  attention, 
and  after  that  the  slander  was  never  repeated. 

One  morning  in  December  the  neighborhood  of 
La  Haye  was  set  all  in  a  flutter  of  curiosity  by  a 
sudden  increase  in  the  family  in  Pere  Louchet's 
cottage. 

As  an  explanation  of  it  he  remarked  with  his 
eyes  twinkling  more  than  usual :  "  I  am  getting 
old  and  need  help  about  the  place,  and  that  is  why 
a  nephew  and  a  niece  of  my  brother-in-law  Maillot 
have  come  to  live  with  me." 

Paul  and  Elise  Durand  were  natives  of  "  up 
north  "  and  had  never  before  been  as  far  south  as 
La  Haye.  The  woman  was  about  twenty-five  years 
old,  brown  as  a  berry,  with  a  sturdy  figure  and 
strong  arms.  Her  brother  was  tall  and  slender. 
He  said  he  was  nearly  twenty,  yet  he  was  small 
for  his  age  and  his  entire  innocence  of  any  beard 
gave  him  a  still  more  boyish  appearance.  He 
spoke  with  a  softer  accent  than  most  country  lads 
in  those  parts,  but  that  was  because  he  came  from 
the  neighborhood  of  Paris ;  and  then  he  and  his 
sister  had  both  been  in  the  service  of  a  great 
"  Seigneur"  before  the  Revolution. 

In  the  neighboring  province  of  La  Vendee  the 
peasants,  led  by  the  priests  and  nobles,  were  threat 
ening  to  take  up  arms  in  support  of  the  monarchy. 
But  the  inhabitants  of  La  Haye  took  little  interest 
in  political  affairs,  and  although  they  shared  some- 


PfcRE  LOUCHET'S  GUESTS  109 

what  the  sentiment  of  opposition  in  La  Vendee  to 
the  new  government  in  Paris,  they  busied  them 
selves  generally  with  their  vineyards  and  their 
crops  and  took  no  active  part  in  politics.  Paul 
and  Elise  were  content  in  the  fact  that  their  new 
home  was  so  quiet  and  so  remote  from  the  strife 
that  was  raging  so  fiercely  all  about  them. 

One  morning,  shortly  after  her  arrival,  Elise  was 
resting  by  the  stile  which  divided  the  field  of  Pere 
Louchet  from  that  of  his  brother-in-law.  She  had 
placed  on  the  stile  the  bucket  containing  six  fresh 
cheeses  wrapped  in  cool  green  grape  leaves,  while 
she  herself  sat  down  upon  the  bottom  step  beside 
it,  to  remove  her  wooden  sabot  and  shake  out  a 
little  pebble  that  had  been  irritating  her  foot. 
The  wooden  shoe  replaced,  she  took  up  her  pail 
and  was  about  to  spring  blithely  over  the  stile, 
when  she  drew  back  with  a  little  cry  of  surprise 
mingled  with  alarm.  Standing  on  the  other  side, 
his  arm  resting  on  the  top  step,  leaned  a  young 
man  who  had  evidently  been  watching  her  closely. 

Drawing  a  short  pipe  from  between  a  row  of 
white  teeth,  his  mouth  expanded  in  a  wide  grin. 

"  Did  I  frighten  you  ?  "  he  said,  in  a  slight  for 
eign  accent  but  with  an  extremely  pleasant  tone  of 
voice. 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  Elise,  looking  at  him 
frankly.  "  I  'm  not  easily  frightened.  If  you  will 
move  a  little  to  one  side,  I  can  cross  the  stile  and 
go  about  my  affairs." 

"  What  have  you  in  the  pail  ?  "  asked  the  man, 
as  he  complied  with  her  request. 


110  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"Cheeses,"  she  answered,  as  he  came  lightly 
over  the  wall.  "  It 's  clear  you  're  not  of  this  part 
of  the  country  or  you  would  never  have  asked  that 
question." 

"  I  am  not  from  this  part  of  the  country,"  said 
the  stranger.  "  You  ought  to  know  that  by  my 
accent." 

"  Where  is  your  native  place  ?  "  asked  Elise, 
her  curiosity  aroused. 

"  A  long  distance  from  here  —  Prussia.  Have 
you  ever  heard  of  that  country  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  We  are  most  of  us  against  the  Eepublic  — 
there,"  said  he.  "  I  am,  for  one,"  and  he  looked 
at  her  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eyes.  She  made 
no  reply.  "  Let  me  carry  your  cheeses,"  he  said, 
laying  his  hand  upon  the  bucket. 

"  They  are  not  heavy,"  said  Elise,  "  and  I  must 
hurry  home." 

"  All  ways  are  the  same  to  me  and  I  will  go 
along  with  you,"  he  said,  taking  the  bucket  from 
her.  "  It 's  heavy  for  you." 

"  It 's  no  burden  for  me,  and  as  I  don't  know 
you  I  prefer  to  go  home  by  myself,"  she  said 
frankly. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  a  merry  fellow  —  you  need  not  fear 
me.  I  am  your  friend." 

"  I  have  no  way  of  being  sure  of  that,"  was  the 
reply,  "  though  you  don't  look  as  if  you  could  be 
an  enemy." 

"  I  should  be  glad  for  an  opportunity  to  prove 
myself  your  friend.  And  I  could  prove  that  I  am 


P&RE  LOUCHET'S  GUESTS  111 

no  stranger  by  telling  you  a  good  deal  about  your- 
self  and  your  brother  Paul." 

"  Indeed,"  was  all  Elise  vouchsafed  in  reply, 
but  she  looked  a  little  uncomfortable. 

"  I  might  tell  you  of  an  order  of  arrest  that  was 
not  carried  out ;  of  a  chateau  burned ;  of  the 
midnight  flight  of  two  women  and  the  arrival  at 
La  Haye  of  a  woman  and  her  younger  brother ; 
all  this  I  might  tell  you,  with  the  assurance  that 
these  secrets  are  safe  in  the  keeping  of  a  friend." 

"  How  will  you  prove  that  you  are  a  friend  ?  " 
Elise  said  in  a  low  voice  with  apparent  unconcern, 
although  she  felt  her  heart  beating  with  fear. 

"  The  fact  that  I  have  just  told  you  what  I 
know  and  shall  tell  no  one  else,  should  be  one 
proof,"  he  said.  Elise  did  not  answer,  but  looked 
at  him  with  a  keen  expression  as  if  she  would  read 
his  thoughts. 

He  had  a  frank,  open  face,  the  very  plainness 
of  which  bespoke  the  honesty  of  the  man. 

"  Suppose  I  should  say  that  I  came  from  Hagen- 
hof  in  Prussia  and  that  I  was  sent  here  by  friends 
of  your  brother  who  have  gone  there.  Suppose  I 
should  say  that  they  wanted  you  to  join  them  and 
that  I  could  take  you  there  with  little  risk  to  your 
selves,  would  you  be  inclined  to  trust  me  then  ?  " 

"  What  risk  do  we  incur  by  remaining  where 
we  are  ?  "  inquired  Elise,  without  answering  his 
question. 

"  You  will  always  run  the  risk  of  discovery 
while  in  France,"  he  replied.  "  But  tell  me,  are 
you  inclined  to  trust  me  ?  " 


112  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"Yes,"  answered  Elise,  stopping  and  looking 
him  full  in  the  face.  "  I  am." 

"  Good,"  he  cried,  setting  down  the  pail  and  ex 
tending  his  hand. 

"  I  am  disposed  to  trust  you,"  she  went  on, 
"  but  in  order  to  do  so  fully  I  should  wish  to  see 
a  letter  from  the  friend  you  speak  of." 

"  It  is  dangerous  to  carry  such  a  writing,"  he 
replied  significantly. 

"  True,  but  you  can  mention  names." 

"  I  can,  and  will,  —  names  your  brother  will 
know  well.  The  Baron  von  Valdenmeer,  for  in 
stance.  Besides,  if  I  were  your  enemy  I  need  not 
come  thus  secretly.  Your  enemies  can  use  open 
means." 

"  I  said  "  -  Elise  hesitated  —  "I  am  disposed 
to  believe  you  are  what  you  claim  to  be,  but  I  can 
do  nothing  without  the  consent  of  my  brother." 

"  Good  !   will  you  obtain  his  consent  ?  " 

"I  will  try." 

"  Good  again.  You  will  succeed.  Talk  with 
him  and  get  his  consent  to  leave  here.  And  as 
soon  as  possible  I  will  make  all  the  arrangements 
for  the  journey  so  that  we  may  leave  in  a  week  or 
at  the  latest  a  fortnight.  Then  if  you  have  not 
persuaded  your  brother  that  it  is  for  his  interest 
to  go  with  me,  I  will  try  and  add  my  arguments 
to  yours." 

"  I  trust  you  will  find  us  ready,"  said  Elise ; 
"  but  in  the  mean  time  shall  you  remain  here  ?  " 

"  No,  I  must  go  to  Paris,"  was  the  Prussian's 
answer.  "  If  you  should  have  occasion  to  com- 


P^RE  LOUCHET'S  GUESTS  113 

municate  with  me,  a  word  sent  to  Hector  Gaillard, 
15  Rue  des  Mathurins,  will  reach  me.  But  do 
not  send  any  word  unless  it  is  of  the  greatest  im 
portance,  and  then  employ  a  messenger  whom  you 
can  trust." 

44  Is  that  your  name  ?  "   asked  the  woman. 

44  That  is  my  name  while  in  France.  Can  you 
remember  that  and  the  address  ?  " 

44 1  can." 

44  Then  good-by.  And  a  word  at  parting,"  he 
said  —  turning  after  he  had  leaped  the  fence.  44  It 
is  perhaps  needless  to  caution  you,  but  my  advice 
would  be  that  your  brother  should  not  go  too  often 
to  the  village.  His  hands  are  too  small.  Good- 
by."  And  he  walked  off  up  the  lane  smoking  his 
short  pipe,  and  whistling  gayly. 

Two  days  later  Gaillard  joined  his  friend  Tour- 
nay  in  Paris.  He  found  Tournay  much  more 
hopeful  than  when  he  had  left  him,  and  his  spirits 
rose  still  more  as  he  heard  Gaillard 's  news. 

44  It  is  Wednesday,"  Tournay  said.  44  On  Sat 
urday  the  convention  has  promised  to  send  me  back 
with  my  dispatches.  Can  you  be  ready  for  La 
Haye  by  Saturday  morning  ?  " 

44  Yes,"  said  Gaillard,  44  twelve  hours  earlier  if 
necessary." 

44  It  is  agreed  then  for  Saturday,  unless  the  con 
vention  delays." 

Three  days  after  her  meeting  with  Gaillard, 
Elise,  on  returning  from  a  neighboring  town  where 
she  had  gone  to  dispose  of  some  butter,  found  the 
kitchen  deserted  and  the  fire  out.  She  had  ex- 


114  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

pected  to  find  a  bowl  of  hot  potato  soup  and  a 
plate  of  sausage  and  garlic.  Instead  she  found  a 
cold  hearthstone  and  an  empty  casserole. 

As  usual,  the  first  thought  of  the  devoted  sister 
was  of  Paul,  and  she  called  his  name  loudly.  It 
did  not  take  long  to  ascertain  that  the  house  was 
empty,  and  with  her  heart  beating  wildly  with 
anxiety  she  ran  outside  the  cottage  crying,  "  Oh, 
Paul,  my  child,  —  my  brother,  Paul !  "  There  was 
no  answer  save  from  the  cattle  in  the  outhouse 
who  shook  their  stanchions,  impatient  for  their 
evening  meal.  She  looked  about  for  Pere  Lou- 
chet.  He  also  was  absent.  Evidently  he  had 
driven  in  the  cows  and  had  been  prevented  from 
feeding  them.  Something  serious  had  happened, 
and  it  must  have  occurred  within  an  hour,  for  at 
this  time  the  cattle  were  usually  feeding. 

Elise  sat  down  for  a  moment  on  an  upturned 
basket  to  collect  herself.  Her  first  thought  was  to 
go  to  Maillot's  in  search  of  them.  They  might  be 
there,  yet  it  would  take  an  hour  to  go  to  Maillot's 
and  return.  And  then  what  if  Louchet  and  Paul 
were  not  there!  What  if  the  couple  had  been 
murdered  and  the  bodies  were  still  on  the  farm  ?  " 
Elise  shuddered  at  the  thought,  and  called  loud 
again,  "Paul,  Paul,  my  brother,  art  thou  not 
here  ?  " 

From  the  hay  in  the  loft  above  came  a  smoth 
ered  sound.  With  a  glad  cry  Elise  sprang  up  the 
stairs,  to  see  Pere  Louchet's  head  and  shoulders 
emerging  from  under  a  pile  of  clover. 

"  Where  is  Paul  ?  "  cried  Elise,  pouncing  upon 


P&RE  LOUCHET'S  GUESTS  115 

him  before  he  had  freed  himself  from  the  hay,  and 
almost  dragging  him  to  his  feet.  He  blinked  at 
her  for  a  moment  while  he  picked  the  stray  wisps 
of  straw  from  his  hair  and  neck. 

"  Gone,"  he  said  laconically. 

"  Gone  !  Where  ?  "  cried  Elise,  frantically  tak 
ing  him  by  the  shoulders  and  shaking  him  so  that 
the  hayseed  and  straw  flew  from  his  coat.  "  Pere 
Louchet,  what  is  the  matter?  I  never  saw  you 
like  this  before  ;  have  you  been  drinking  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said  slowly,  and  then  as  if  the  thought 
occurred  to  him  for  the  first  time,  he  went  toward 
a  cask  of  cherry  brandy  which  stood  in  a  corner 
of  the  granary  and  drew  almost  a  tin-cupful. 

With  blazing  eyes  Elise  saw  him  measure  out 
the  liquor  slowly,  with  a  hand  that  trembled 
slightly,  and  put  the  cup  to  his  lips.  She  felt  as 
if  she  must  spring  upon  him  and  dash  the  cup 
from  his  hands,  but  she  controlled  herself  with  an 
effort.  Louchet  drained  off  the  brandy  to  the  last 
drop,  straightened  up,  and  looked  at  Elise.  He 
acted  like  a  different  man. 

"  Paul  was  taken  from  here  about  an  hour  ago 
by  three  men.  They  had  papers  and  red  seals  and 
tricolor  cockades  enough  to  take  a  dozen." 

"  And  you  let  them  take  him  ?  "  cried  Elise. 

Pere  Louchet  looked  at  his  niece  quizzically 
with  his  twinkling  eye. 

"  There  were  three  of  them,  Elise,  my  child,  and 
they  had  big  red  seals  and  swore  a  great  deal." 

"  Of  course,"  admitted  the  woman  hastily,  "  you 
could  do  nothing  by  force." 


116  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  I  did  try  to  prevent  them  from  going  upstairs 
where  Paul  was,"  the  old  man  replied,  "  but  one  of 
them  knocked  me  on  the  head  and  into  a  corner 
where  I  lay  like  a  log." 

"  Oh  that  I  had  been  here,"  moaned  Elise,  as 
she  and  Louchet  went  toward  the  house.  "  If  I 
could  only  know  where  they  have  taken  Paul ! " 

"  To  Tours,"  replied  Pere  Louchet  with  decision. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  asked  Elise  quickly. 

"  I  remember  it  plainly  now.  When  I  lay  in 
the  corner  with  a  kind  of  dazed  feeling  in  my 
head,  not  wishing  to  get  up  and  stir  around,  I  saw 
one  of  the  men  — not  the  one  who  hit  me,  but  a 
smaller  man  with  a  larger  hat  and  more  cockades 
and  more  seals,  take  a  paper  out  of  his  pocket  and 
read  it  to  Paul.  I  tried  to  make  out  what  it  said, 
for  although  I  could  hear  every  word  that  was 
uttered,  I  could  not  get  an  idea  in  my  head  that 
would  hold  together ;  but  I  was  able  to  catch  the 
word  Tours ;  I  am  sure  they  have  gone  to  Tours." 

"  How  is  your  head  now,  Pere  Louchet  ?  "  asked 
Elise  with  feverish  eagerness. 

"  As  clear  as  a  bell,"  was  the  reply.  "  Let  me 
have  one  little  nip  more  of  that  brandy  and  it  will 
be  clearer." 

"  Can  you  ride  ?  " 

"  Like  a  boy." 

"  Good !  Make  up  a  bundle  of  food  and  cloth 
ing  for  a  two-days'  journey  and  I  '11  have  a  horse 
at  the  door  by  the  time  you  are  ready." 

Ten  minutes  later  Pere  Louchet,  with  a  bundle 
of  necessities  strapped  on  his  back,  was  mounted 


LOUCHET'S  GUESTS  117 

on  one  of  his  best  horses  which  Elise  had  saddled 
for  him. 

"  Now,  where  am  I  to  ride  to  ?  "  he  demanded, 
directing  his  twinkling  eye  down  upon  his  niece. 

"  Ride  to  Paris.  Seek  out  Gaillard,  15  Rue 
Mathurins ;  give  him  this  letter.  That  is  all  I 
ask  of  you." 

"  And  you  —  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  said 
Pere  Louchet,  putting  the  letter  in  his  inside  breast 
pocket  with  a  slap  on  the  outside  to  emphasize  its 
safety. 

"  I  ride  toward  Tours,"  replied  the  intrepid 
woman. 


CHAPTER  IX 

PRISON   BOAT   NUMBER   FOUR 

PAUL  DURAND  was  confined  in  the  prison  at 
Tours.  The  prison  was  so  crowded  that  he  had  to 
be  placed  in  a  small  room  at  the  top  of  the  build 
ing  adjoining  the  quarters  occupied  by  the  jailer 
and  his  family. 

Paul  was  paler  than  usual,  the  result  of  fatigue 
from  the  long,  rapid  ride  from  La  Haye,  but  he 
showed  no  signs  of  fear  and  held  up  his  head 
bravely  as  the  jailer  entered  the  room.  The  latter 
carried  a  bundle  under  his  arm. 

"  You  are  to  take  these  clothes,"  he  said,  "  go 
into  the  adjoining  room,  and  put  them  on  in  place 
of  the  garments  you  have  on." 

Paul  took  the  bundle  and  went  into  the  next 
room.  For  fifteen  minutes  the  jailer  sat  upon  the 
one  chair  the  room  contained,  humming  and  jin 
gling  his  bunch  of  keys.  Then  the  door  into  the 
outer  corridor  was  thrown  open  and  a  large  man 
entered.  The  jailer  sprang  to  his  feet  with  alac 
rity. 

"  Where 's  the  prisoner,  Potin  ?  "  demanded  the 
newcomer  in  a  harsh  voice. 

"  In  the  next  room,  Citizen  Leboeuf,"  replied 
Potin. 


PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR  119 

Leboeuf  strode  toward  the  door  and  laid  his 
hand  upon  the  latch. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Citizen  Leboeuf,  but  the 
prisoner  may  not  be  ready  to  receive  you." 

"  Well,  there 's  no  particular  reason  to  be 
squeamish,  is  there  ? "  asked  Leboeuf,  screwing 
his  fat  face  into  a  leer. 

"  If  you  will  wait  another  minute  I  think  the 
prisoner  will  come  out,"  suggested  Potin  deferen 
tially,  jingling  his  keys. 

"  Bah,  you  show  your  lodgers  too  much  consid 
eration,  citizen  jailer  ;  you  spoil  them."  Never 
theless  Lebosuf  allowed  his  hand  to  drop  from  the 
latch  and  took  a  few  impatient  strides  across  the 
floor. 

The  door  opened  and,  turning,  Leboeuf  saw 
Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  standing  on  the  thresh 
old.  She  was  thinner  than  when  she  left  La 
Thierry  :  but  her  eyes  had  lost  none  of  their  fire, 
and  she  looked  Citizen  Leboeuf  in  the  face  without 
flinching.  His  dull  eyes  kindled  while  he  looked 
at  her  some  moments  without  speaking. 

"  Do  you  know  who  I  am  ?  "  he  inquired  in  his 
thick,  husky  voice. 

"  Yes,  I  overheard  the  jailer  call  you  Citizen 
Leboeuf." 

"Right.  I  am  Citizen  Leboeuf;  and  do  you 
know  why  you  have  been  brought  here  ?  " 

"  A  paper  was  read  to  me  last  night  which  pre 
tended  to  give  some  explanation,"  was  her  quiet 
rejoinder. 

"  In  order  to  save  time  and  expense  your  trial 


120  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

will  take  place  at  Tours,  rather  than  at  Paris.     I 
am  one  of  the  judges  of  this  district." 

Mademoiselle  Edme  looked  at  him  with  an  ex 
pression  of  indifference. 

"  You  do  not  appear  to  be  afraid." 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 
.    Lebceuf  eyed  her  with  evident  admiration. 

"  Why  did  you  put  on  boy's  clothes  ?  "  he  asked 
abruptly. 

"  In  order  to  avoid  detection,"  she  answered 
frankly,  coming  forward  and  seating  herself  in  the 
chair  which  Potin  had  vacated  upon  her  entrance. 
Leboeuf  was  standing  before  her,  hat  in  hand,  an 
act  of  politeness  he  had  not  shown  to  any  one  for 
years. 

"  And  you  did  it  well,"  he  said.  "  You  threw 
them  off  the  track  completely.  Had  it  not  been 
for  me,  your  hiding-place  would  never  have  been 
discovered.  It  was  a  splendid  trick  you  played 
upon  those  bunglers  from  Paris."  And  he  slapped 
his  thigh  in  keen  appreciation  of  it,  and  laughed 
hoarsely. 

"  I  will  take  your  boy's  clothes  with  me,"  he 
continued  as  he  prepared  to  leave  the  room,  "  lest 
you  should  be  tempted  to  put  them  on  again  from 
force  of  habit.  We  don't  want  you  turning  into  a 
boy  any  more.  No,  you  make  too  pretty  a  wo 
man."  Then  going  up  to  the  jailer  he  said  some 
thing  to  him  in  a  low  voice  which  Edme  could  not 
hear.  Potin  seemed  to  be  remonstrating  feebly. 
Lebceuf  scowled,  and  from  his  manner  appeared 
to  insist  upon  the  point  at  issue. 


PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR  121 

"  Are  you  sure  you  are  not  afraid  ?  "  he  said 
again  abruptly  to  Edme  as  he  went  to  the  door 
and  stood  with  one  hand  on  the  latch  looking  back 
into  the  room. 

"No!" 

He  looked  at  her  admiringly. 

"  Remember  you  are  a  woman  now  and  have  a 
perfect  right  to  be  afraid ;  also  to  kick  and  scream 
when  anything  is  the  matter." 

Edme  made  no  reply. 

"  In  case  you  should  ever  feel  afraid,"  he  said 
significantly,  "  just  send  for  Leboeuf,  that 's  all," 
and  with  this  he  left  the  room. 

Edme  remained  in  Potin's  charge  for  two  days. 
The  jailer  treated  her  with  great  consideration, 
and  she  congratulated  herself  upon  having  fallen 
into  such  kindly  hands.  She  momentarily  ex 
pected  to  be  summoned  before  the  Tribunal.  She 
did  not  know  what  the  result  would  be ;  but  she 
looked  forward  to  her  trial  with  impatience.  In 
any  event  it  would  end  the  suspense  in  which  she 
was  living. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  Potin  en 
tered  her  room,  accompanied  by  one  of  his  depu 
ties. 

"  You  must  prepare  to  go  with  this  man,  citi- 
zeness,  "  said  the  little  jailer. 

"  Has  the  Tribunal  sent  for  me  ?  she  inquired. 

"Not  yet.  But  you  are  to  be  transferred  to 
another  prison." 

"  I  prefer  to  stay  here,"  she  said.  "  Cannot 
you  ask  them  to  allow  me  to  remain  ?  " 


122  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  You  have  no  choice  in  the  matter,  nor  have  I ; 
I  have  only  my  orders." 

"  From  whom  did  the  order  come  ?  From  that 
man  Lebceuf  who  came  here  the  other  day  ?  "  she 
demanded  quickly. 

"  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  say,"  replied  Potin, 
shifting  his  feet  uneasily. 

"  Are  you  forbidden  to  tell  me  where  I  am  to 
be  taken  ?  "  was  her  next  question. 

"  To  prison  boat  Number  Four.  The  city  pris 
ons  are  so  full,"  he  continued,  in  answer  to  her 
look  of  surprised  inquiry,  "  that  great  numbers 
have  to  be  lodged  in  the  boats  anchored  in  the 
river.  Number  Four  is  one  of  the  largest,"  he 
added  as  if  by  way  of  consolation. 

In  company  of  the  deputy  Edme  was  conducted 
to  the  floating  prison  on  the  Loire.  As  they 
stepped  over  the  side  they  were  met  by  a  little 
round-shouldered  man  with  splay  feet.  His  face 
was  wrinkled  and  brown  almost  to  blackness ;  his 
dress  showed  that  he  had  a  fondness  for  bright 
colors,  as  he  wore  a  purple  shirt  with  a  crimson 
sash,  a  bright  yellow  neckcloth,  and  a  red  cap. 
The  deputy  turned  over  his  charge  to  him,  re 
ceived  his  quittance,  and  went  away. 

Edm6  was  conducted  to  a  room  in  the  stern  of 
the  vessel.  It  was  a  small  room  and  to  her  sur 
prise  she  found  it  furnished  comfortably,  almost 
luxuriously.  On  a  table  in  the  centre  stood  a 
carafe  of  wine  and  a  basket  of  sweet  biscuit.  Two 
or  three  chairs  and  a  couch  completed  the  equip 
ment  of  the  room.  At  the  extreme  end,  the  port- 


PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR  123 

hole  had  been  enlarged  into  a  window  which  looked 
out  over  the  river.  This  window  was  closed  by 
wooden  bars.  Otherwise  the  place  looked  more 
like  the  comfortable  quarters  of  some  ship's  offi 
cer  than  a  jail. 

"  Is  this  where  I  am  to  remain?  "  she  asked  of 
her  new  jailer. 

The  man  nodded  and  withdrew,  locking  the 
door  after  him. 

Edme  threw  herself  into  a  chair.  It  was  in 
tended  that  she  should  at  least  be  comfortable 
while  in  prison,  and  this  thought  helped  to  keep 
up  her  spirits.  She  rose,  took  a  glass  of  wine  and 
some  of  the  biscuit,  and  then  after  finishing  this 
refreshment,  feeling  fatigued,  she  lay  down  upon 
the  couch  and  fell  asleep. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  she  awoke.  Lying  on 
the  couch  she  could  see  the  dying  light  of  the 
short  December  day  shining  feebly  in  at  the  win 
dow,  reflected  by  the  metal  of  a  swinging  lamp 
over  the  table.  As  she  lay  there  she  became 
aware  of  a  noise  that  had  evidently  awakened  her. 
It  was  the  sound  of  wailing  and  lamentation,  ac 
companied  by  the  creaking  of  timber  and  the 
swash  of  water. 

Rising  from  the  bed  she  went  to  the  window 
and  looked  out  over  the  river. 

Going  down  the  stream  were  two  other  prison 
boats.  They  were  scarcely  fifty  yards  away  and 
proceeded  slowly  with  the  current,  the  water  lap 
ping  against  their  black  sides.  They  were  old 
vessels,  and  creaked  and  groaned  as  if  they  were 


124  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

about  to  fall  apart  from  very  rottenness.  From 
between  their  decks  came  the  sound  of  human 
voices  raised  in  cries  of  fear,  despair,  and  lamen 
tation  ;  all  mingled  in  a  strange,  horrible  medley, 
which,  borne  over  the  water  by  the  sighing  night 
wind,  struck  a  chill  into  Edme's  heart. 

The  vessels,  stealing  down  the  river  with  their 
sailless  masts  against  the  evening  sky,  looked  like 
phantom  ships  conveying  cargoes  of  unrestful, 
tortured  spirits  into  darkness.  The  sight  so  fasci 
nated  Edme  that  she  stood  watching  them  until 
they  drifted  out  of  sight  and  the  cries  of  those  on 
board  grew  fainter  and  fainter  in  the  distance. 
So  absorbed  had  she  been  as  not  to  hear  the  lock 
click  in  the  door  and  a  man  enter  the  room.  She 
only  became  aware  of  his  presence  on  hearing  a 
heavy  sigh  just  behind  her,  and  turning  her  head 
she  saw  Lebceuf's  heavy  face  at  her  shoulder. 
She  gave  a  startled  cry  and  stepped  nearer  the 
window. 

"  It  is  a  sad  sight,  is  it  not,"  he  remarked,  with 
a  look  of  sympathy  ill-suited  to  the  leer  in  his 
eyes,  "and  one  that  might  easily  frighten  the 
strongest  of  us." 

"  It  is  your  sudden  appearance,  when  I  thought 
I  was  entirely  alone,  that  startled  me,"  replied 
Edme,  regaining  her  composure  with  an  effort. 
"  I  was  so  intent  upon  looking  at  those  boats  that 
I  did  not  hear  you  come  in." 

"  I  see  you  did  n't.  I  may  be  bulky,  but  I  'm 
active  and  can  move  quietly,"  and  he  gave  a 
chuckle. 


PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR  125 

Edme  thought  him  even  more  repulsive  than 
at  the  time  of  his  visit  to  the  prison.  His  face 
seemed  coarser  and  more  inflamed,  and  his  eyes, 
so  dull  and  heavy  before,  shone  as  if  animated  by 
drink. 

"  Where  are  they  taking  those  poor  people  ?  " 
she  asked ;  "  for  I  presume  those  are  prison  boats." 

"  They  are,"  was  the  reply  in  a  thick  utterance. 
"  Just  like  this.  Are  you  sure  that  you  want  to 
know  where  they  are  being  taken  ?  " 

"  Would  I  have  asked  you  otherwise  ?  " 

"  Are  you  sure  you  won't  faint  ?  " 

Edme  gave  a  shrug  of  contempt.  She  saw  that 
he  was  trying  to  work  upon  her  fears,  and  felt  her 
spirit  rise  in  antagonism. 

The  look  of  admiration  that  he  gave  her  was 
more  offensive  than  his  pretended  sympathy.  Lean 
ing  forward  he  whispered,  "  They  are  going  down 
the  river  for  about  two  miles.  There  they  will 
get  rid  of  their  troublesome  freight  and  return 
empty." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Edme.  "  Where 
do  they  land  the  prisoners  ? 

"  They  don't  land  them,  they  water  them,"  and 
he  gave  a  low,  inward  laugh.  "  They  drown  every 
prisoner  on  board.  Tie  them  together  in  couples, 
man  and  woman,  and  tumble  them  overboard  by 
the  score." 

Edme  gave  a  cry  of  horror.  "  It  is  too  horrible 
to  be  true.  I  don't  believe  it !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Leboeuf ;  "  drowning  is  an 
easy  death,  and  every  one  of  them  has  been  fairly 


126  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

and  honestly  condemned."  This  boat  is  to  follow 
in  its  turn.  Every  prisoner  here  has  looked  upon 
the  sun  for  the  last  time,  though  not  one  of  them 
knows  just  when  he  is  to  die." 

The  idea  of  such  wholesale  murder  seemed  so 
utterly  impossible  to  her  that  in  her  mind  she  set 
down  Leboeuf's  whole  account  as  a  fiction  of  his 
drink  -  besotted  brain,  called  up  to  frighten  her. 
Yet  at  the  moment  when  she  turned  from  him  in 
disgust  to  look  out  of  the  window,  she  saw  that 
their  own  vessel  had  begun  to  move  slowly  through 
the  water. 

"  We  have  started,"  said  Leboeuf,  as  if  he  were 
mentioning  a  matter  of  the  smallest  consequence. 

"  You  say  that  every  one  upon  this  boat  is  a 
condemned  person,"  said  Edme  quietly,  repressing 
her  terror  with  an  effort. 

Leboeuf  nodded. 

"  But  I  am  not.  I  have  not  even  had  a  hear- 
ing." 

"No?"  exclaimed  Leboeuf  in  a  tone  of  sur 
prise.  "  Then  those  jailers  have  made  another 
mistake." 

Edme  advanced  toward  him  one  step,  and  in 
a  tone  which  made  the  huge  man  draw  back, 
said :  — 

"  I  was  brought  here  by  your  order !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  I  knew  nothing  of  the  change.  It  was 
that  villain  Potin." 

"I  was  brought  here  by  your  order,"  she  re 
peated.  "  I  demand  that  I  be  taken  where  I  can 
have  a  trial." 


PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR  127 

"  Potin  has  made  another  mistake,"  was  all  Le- 
boeuf  would  vouchsafe  in  reply. 

"  If  there  has  been  any  mistake,  it  is  yours.  I 
demand  that  you  set  it  right." 

"  It  is  too  late !  " 

"There  must  be  some  one  aboard  this  vessel 
who  has  the  power  to  do  it,  if  you  have  not.  I 
will  go  and  appeal  for  aid,"  and  she  took  a  step 
toward  the  door. 

Leboeuf  interposed  his  bulky  body  between  her 
and  the  means  of  exit ;  closed  and  locked  the  door 
on  the  inside. 

"  I  will  cry  aloud.  Some  one  will  hear  me,"  she 
said  in  desperation. 

"  Who  will  hear  you  above  all  that  noise  ?  "  he 
inquired  tersely. 

The  prisoners  on  the  boat,  now  fully  aware  that 
their  time  of  execution  had  come,  were  crying  out 
against  their  fate,  —  some  praying  for  mercy,  some 
calling  down  the  maledictions  of  heaven  upon  their 
butchers,  while  others  wept  silently. 

"Merciful  Virgin,  protect  me.  I  have  lost  all 
hope,"  cried  Edme,  turning  from  Leboeuf  and 
sinking  despairingly  upon  her  knees. 

"  Ah,  now  you  are  frightened  !  "  exclaimed  Le 
boeuf,  "  admit  that  you  are  frightened  !  " 

"  If  it  is  any  satisfaction  to  have  succeeded  in 
terrifying  a  woman  unable  to  defend  herself,  I 
will  not  rob  you  of  the  pleasure,  but  know  that  it 
is  not  death,  but  the  manner  of  it,  that  I  fear." 

"  But  you  are  afraid ;  you  have  confessed  to  it 
at  last,  and  now  Leboeuf  will  see  that  they  do  not 


128  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

harm  you."  He  gave  a  grim  chuckle  as  if  he  en- 
*  joyed  having  won  his  point.  Kapidly  pushing  the 
table  to  one  side,  turning  back  the  rug  that  covered 
the  floor,  he  stooped ;  and  to  Edme's  astonished 
gaze  lifted  up  a  trap  door  in  the  floor  of  the  cabin. 
Edme  drew  back  from  the  black  hole  at  her  feet. 

"  It  is  large  enough  to  afford  you  air  for  several 
hours,"  Leboeuf  said.  "  By  that  time  I  will  get 
you  out  again.  Quick,  descend  the  steps." 

Edme,  fearing  further  treachery,  drew  back  in 
alarm.  "  I  prefer  to  meet  my  fate  here." 

Leboeuf  struck  a  light  and  by  the  rays  of  the 
lamp  a  ladder  was  revealed. 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  certain  death  to  remain  here 
fifteen  minutes  longer.  Even  I  could  not  save 
you  then.  The  more  they  throw  into  the  water 
the  more  frenzied  they  become  for  other  victims. 
They  will  ransack  the  entire  boat ;  but  they  won't 
find  you  down  there.  Lebceuf  alone  knows  this 
place.  Quick !  If  you  would  live  to  see  the  sun 
rise  to-morrow,  go  down  the  steps  of  that  ladder." 

He  took  her  by  the  shoulder  to  assist  in  the 
descent.  His  touch  was  so  distasteful  to  her  that 
she  threw  off  his  hand  and  went  down  the  ladder 
unaided.  "Make  not  the  slightest  sound,  what 
ever  you  may  hear  going  on  up  here  above  you, 
and  wait  patiently  until  I  come  to  release  you." 

With  these  words  the  door  was  shut  down  and 
Leboeuf  went  out  and  up  to  the  deck  alone. 

The  vessel  had  reached  a  point  in  the  river  just 
outside  the  city.  Here  the  stream  narrowed  and 
ran  swiftly  between  the  banks. 


PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR  129 

The  sky  was  windy ;  and  between  the  rifts  of 
the  high-banked  clouds  the  moon  shone  fitfully. 
To  the  east  lay  the  city  of  Tours,  its  spires  stand 
ing  out  in  sharp  silhouette  against  the  sky.  On  the 
river  bank  the  wind  swept  over  the  dead,  dry  grass 
with  a  mournful,  swaying  sound  and  rattled  the 
rotting  halyards  of  the  old  hulk,  which  with  one 
small  sail  set  in  the  bow  to  keep  it  steady,  made 
slowly  down  the  river  with  the  current,  hugging 
the  left  bank  as  if  fearful  of  trusting  itself  to  the 
swifter  depths  beyond. 

A  rusty  chain  rasped  through  the  hawse-hole, 
and  the  vessel  swung  at  anchor. 

In  a  small  and  close  compartment  in  the  ship's 
depths,  totally  without  light,  and  with  her  nerves 
wrought  upon  by  Leboeuf's  appalling  story,  Edme 
could  only  guess  at  what  was  happening  above  her 
head. 

She  knew  that  something  terrible  was  taking 
place.  She  could  hear  a  confusion  of  cries  and 
trampling  of  feet ;  of  hoarse  shouts  and  commands ; 
and  she  pictured  in  her  imagination  scenes  quite 
as  horrible  as  were  actually  taking  place  above 
her.  In  every  wave  that  splashed  against  the  ves 
sel's  side  she  could  see  the  white  face  of  a  strug 
gling,  drowning  creature,  and  every  sound  upon 
the  vessel  was  the  despairing  death-note  of  a  fresh 
victim.  Through  it  all  she  could  see  the  large  face 
of  Leboeuf  leering  at  her  with  his  bleary  eyes.  To 
have  exchanged  one  fate  for  a  worse  one  was  to 
have  gained  nothing,  and  in  her  mental  agony  she 
almost  envied  those  who  a  short  time  ago  had  been 


130  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

struggling  helplessly  in  the  hands  of  their  execu 
tioners,  and  whose  bodies  now  were  quietly  sleep 
ing  in  the  waters  of  the  flowing  river. 

A  quiet  fell  upon  the  vessel.  The  last  cry  had 
been  uttered,  the  last  command  given,  and  no 
sound  reached  Edme's  ears  but  the  soft  plash  of 
the  water  as  it  struck  under  the  stern  of  the  boat. 

Then  the  remembrance  of  Lebceuf's  face  and 
look  became  still  more  vivid.  She  feared  him  in 
spite  of  all  her  courage  ;  in  spite  of  her  pride  that 
was  greater  than  her  courage,  she  feared  him. 
The  knowledge  that  he  was  aware  of  his  power 
and  took  delight  in  it  made  the  thought  that  she 
would  soon  have  to  face  him  there  alone  more 
terrible  than  her  dread  of  the  worst  of  deaths. 

A  footfall  sounded  on  the  floor  above  her  head. 
That  it  was  not  Lebceuf's  heavy  tread,  Edme  was 
certain.  Rather  than  fall  into  his  hands  again  she 
would  trust  herself  to  the  mercies  of  the  worst  ruf 
fian  among  the  executioners,  and  she  struck  with 
her  clenched  hand  a  succession  of  quick  knocks 
upon  the  trap. 

The  footsteps  ceased,  and  in  the  stillness  that 
followed  Edme  called  out  to  the  man  above  her 
and  told  him  where  to  find  the  opening.  In  an 
other  instant  the  door  was  lifted  up  and  she  came 
up  into  the  cabin. 

"Kill  me,"  she  cried  out;  "throw  me  into  the 
river  if  it  be  your  pleasure,  but  I  implore  you, 
do  not  let  "  — 

The  man's  hand  closed  over  her  mouth,  and  lift 
ing  her  in  his  arms  he  carried  her  across  the  cabin. 


PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR  131 

The  room  was  dark ;  either  Leboeuf  had  put  out 
the  light  when  he  left,  or  the  newcomer  had  extin 
guished  it,  but  Edme  s.aw  that  he  bore  her  toward 
the  window  from  which  the  lattice  had  been  re 
moved.  She  closed  her  eyes  to  meet  the  end. 
She  felt  herself  swiftly  lifted  through  the  window, 
and  then  instead  of  water  her  feet  struck  a  firm 
substance. 

"  Steady  for  one  moment,"  said  a  voice  in  her 
ear  as  she  opened  her  eyes  in  bewilderment  to  find 
herself  standing  on  the  seat  of  a  small  skiff,  a  man 
supporting  her  by  the  arm.  Her  face  was  on  a 
level  with  the  window,  and  looking  back  into  the 
cabin  she  saw  a  light  at  the  further  end,  as  the 
bulky  form  of  Leboeuf  appeared  at  the  door,  lan 
tern  in  hand,  his  heavy  countenance  made  more 
ugly  by  an  expression  of  surprise  and  rage. 

Voices  were  heard  in  hot  dispute,  then  came  two 
pistol  shots  so  close  together  as  to  seem  almost  one. 
A  figure  leaped  through  the  smoke  that  poured 
from  the  window,  and  Edme  from  her  seat  in  the 
skiff's  bow  where  she  had  been  swung  with  little 
ceremony,  saw  a  man  cut  the  line,  while  the  other 
bent  over  his  oars  and  made  the  small  craft  fly 
away  from  the  vessel,  straight  for  the  opposite 
shore.  The  man  who  had  leaped  from  the  win 
dow  took  his  place  silently  in  the  stern.  Placing 
one  hand  on  the  tiller,  he  turned  and  looked  in 
tently  over  his  shoulder  at  the  dark  outline  of  the 
prison  ship,  which  was  rapidly  receding  into  the 
gloom. 

His  hat  had  fallen  off,  and  in  the  uncertain  light 


132  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Eclme  saw  for  the  first  time  that  it  was  Robert 
Tournay. 

Before  a  word  could  be  uttered  by  any  of  them, 
a  tongue  of  flame  shot  out  from  the  vessel  behind 
them,  followed  by  a  loud  and  sharp  report.  The 
dash  of  spray  that  swept  over  the  boat  told  that 
the  shot  had  struck  the  water  close  by  them. 

The  man  at  the  oars  shook  the  water  from  his 
eyes  and  redoubled  his  efforts.  "  Head  her  down 
the  river  a  little,"  he  said. 

"  But  the  carriage  is  at  least  two  miles  above 
here,"  replied  Tournay. 

"  No  matter,"  answered  Gaillard.  "  The  shore 
here  is  too  steep.  We  must  land  a  little  further 
down." 

Tournay  altered  their  course  and  steered  the 
boat  slantingly  across  the  current. 

They  were  now  nearing  the  right-hand  shore, 
which  rose  abruptly  from  the  river  to  a  height  of 
some  twenty  feet.  The  current  here  was  swifter, 
and  the  greatest  caution  had  to  be  exercised.  A 
second  flash  flamed  out  from  the  prison  ship,  a 
sound  of  crashing  wood,  and  the  little  skiff  seemed 
to  leap  into  the  air  and  then  slide  from  under  their 
feet,  while  the  icy  water  of  the  Loire  rushed  in 
Edme's  ears,  —  strangling  her  and  dragging  her 
down,  until  it  seemed  as  if  the  water's  weight 
would  crush  her.  Then  she  began  to  come  up 
ward  with  increasing  velocity  until  at  last,  when 
she  thought  never  to  reach  the  surface,  she  felt  her 
head  rise  above  the  water  and  saw  the  cloudy, 
threatening  sky,  which  seemed  to  reel  above  her 
as  she  gasped  for  breath. 


PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR  133 

Another  head  shot  to  the  surface  by  her  side, 
and  she  felt  herself  sustained,  to  sink  no  more. 
The  words :  "  Place  your  right  hand  upon  my 
shoulder  and  keep  your  face  turned  down  the 
stream  away  from  the  current,"  came  to  her  ears 
as  if  in  a  dream.  Instinctively  she  obeyed.  With 
a  few  rapid  strokes  Tournay  reached  the  shore. 
The  bank  overhung  the  river  and  under  it  the 
water  ran  rapidly. 

With  only  one  arm  free  he  could  not  draw  him 
self  and  Edme  up  the  steep  incline.  Twice  he 
succeeded  in  catching  a  tuft  of  grass  or  projecting 
root,  and  each  time  the  force  of  the  current  broke 
his  hold  upon  it,  and  twirling  them  round  like 
straws  carried  them  on  down  the  stream. 

Gaillard,  who  had  been  struck  by  a  splinter  on 
the  forehead,  was  at  first  stunned  by  the  blow,  and 
without  struggling  was  swept  fifty  yards  down  the 
river.  The  cold  water  brought  him  back  to  con 
sciousness,  and  he  struck  out  for  the  shore.  He 
noticed,  some  hundred  yards  below,  a  place  where 
the  river  swept  to  the  south  and  where  the  bank 
was  considerably  lower.  Allowing  himself  to  be 
borne  along  by  the  current,  he  took  an  occasional 
stroke  to  carry  him  in  toward  the  shore,  and  made 
the  point  easily. 

Drawing  himself  from  the  water  by  some  over 
hanging  bushes,  he  shook  himself  like  a  wet  dog, 
and  sitting  on  the  river's  edge  proceeded  to  bind 
up  his  injured  eye,  while  with  the  other  he  looked 
anxiously  along  the  river-side.  Suddenly  he  bent 
down  and  caught  at  an  object  in  the  water. 


134  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Let  me  take  the  girl,"  he  said  quickly.  "  Now 
your  hand  on  this  bush  —  there  !  "  And  with  a 
swift  motion  he  drew  Edme  up,  and  Tournay, 
relieved  of  her  weight,  swung  himself  to  their 
side. 

For  a  short  time  they  lay  panting  on  the  bank. 
Gaillard  was  the  first  to  get  upon  his  feet. 

"  We  shall  perish  of  cold  here,"  he  exclaimed, 
springing  up  and  down  to  warm  his  benumbed 
blood,  while  the  wet  ends  of  his  yellow  necker 
chief  flapped  about  his  forehead. 

"  Can  you  walk,  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  ?  " 

Edme  placed  her  hand  upon  her  side  to  still  the 
sharp  shooting  pain,  and  answered  "  Yes." 

"  Good ;  the  road  is  only  a  few  rods  from  here, 
but  we  must  follow  it  at  least  two  miles  to  the 
west." 

"  I  shall  be  able  to  do  it !  " 

As  she  uttered  these  words  the  pain  in  her  side 
increased.  She  felt  her  strength  leave  her,  and 
but  for  the  support  of  Tournay's  arm  she  would 
have  fallen  to  the  ground. 

"  She  has  fainted,"  cried  Tournay  in  consterna 
tion. 

"  No,"  she  remonstrated  feebly,  struggling  with 
the  numbness  that  was  overpowering  her.  "  It  is 
the  cold.  Let  me  rest  for  a  moment ;  I  shall  be 
better  soon." 

"  Mademoiselle,  you  must  walk,  else  you  will  die 
of  cold,"  exclaimed  Tournay.  "  Take  her  by  the 
arm,  Gaillard." 

Instead  of  complying  with  the  request,  Gaillard 


PRISON  BOAT  NUMBER  FOUR  135 

stood  with  head  bent  forward  peering  up  the  road 
into  the  night  gloom. 

"  Gaillard  !  man,  do  you  not  hear  me  ?  " 

"  The  carriage !  I  hear  the  rattle  of  its  wheels," 
cried  Gaillard  joyfully.  "  Agatha  can  always  be 
depended  upon  to  do  the  right  thing  at  the  right 
moment !  " 

"  Hurry  to  meet  her,"  cried  Tournay ;  "  tell  her 
we  are  here  !  " 

Gaillard  sprang  rapidly  forward,  shouting  as  he 
ran. 

"  Courage  but  a  little  moment  longer,"  whispered 
Tournay,  and  taking  Edme  in  his  arms  he  followed 
Gaillard  as  fast  as  his  burden  permitted. 

She  had  not  entirely  lost  consciousness,  but  cold 
and  fatigue  had  combined  to  enervate  and  render 
her  powerless  of  motion. 

In  a  half  swoon  she  felt  herself  carried  she  knew 
not  whither.  She  felt  Tournay's  strong  arms 
about  her,  and  a  sense  of  security  came  over  her 
as  she  faintly  realized  that  each  step  took  her 
further  away  from  the  dreaded  Lebosuf. 

Tournay  hastened  toward  the  carriage.  The 
wind  swept  freshly  over  the  marshes,  and  he  held 
Edme  close  as  if  to  shield  her  from  the  cold.  Her 
hair  blew  back  into  his  face,  covering  his  eyes 
and  touching  his  lips.  As  he  felt  her  soft  tresses 
against  his  cheek  his  heart  throbbed  so  that  he 
forgot  cold,  fatigue,  and  danger.  .  .  .  Where  they 
blinded  him  he  gently  put  the  locks  aside  with  one 
hand  in  a  caressing  manner  and  looked  tenderly 
down  into  the  white  face  pressed  against  his  wet 
coat. 


136  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

The  sound  of  wheels  upon  the  frozen  road  came 
nearer.  Lights  flashed  around  a  turn  in  the  road, 
and  Tournay  staggered  to  the  carriage  door  as  the 
vehicle  drew  up  suddenly. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Gaillard  from  the  box,  where 
he  had  taken  the  reins  from  the  driver.  "We 
have  won ! " 


CHAPTER  X 

OVER  THE   FRONTIER 

IN  the  carriage  Agatha  related  to  her  mistress 
what  had  occurred  after  her  disappearance  from 
La  Haye.  How  she  had  sent  Pere  Louchet  with 
the  message  to  Gaillard  at  Paris,  and  then  had 
followed  on  to  Tours  and  discovered  where  her 
mistress  was  imprisoned.  Tournay  and  Gaillard, 
coming  post  haste  to  Tours,  had  reached  there  on 
the  same  day  that  saw  the  transfer  of  Mademoiselle 
de  Rochefort  to  the  prison-ship  upon  the  Loire. 
Together  with  Agatha,  they  had  formulated  a  plan 
of  rescue  and  put  it  into  immediate  execution. 

The  two  men  had  approached  the  vessel  in  a 
small  skiff  on  the  river,  while  Agatha  had  awaited 
them  in  a  carriage  on  the  other  side.  The  moving 
of  the  prison  ship  down  the  river  might  have  dis 
concerted  their  plans  had  not  the  watchful  Agatha 
seen  the  movement,  and  following  along  the  shore 
reached  them  when  they  had  almost  succumbed 
from  the  exposure  and  cold. 

The  carriage  was  a  commodious  one  and  well 
equipped  for  the  long  journey,  and  in  a  few  min 
utes  Agatha  had  her  mistress  in  a  change  of  warm 
clothing.  As  soon  as  Edme  was  able,  she  bade 
Agatha  call  Tournay  to  the  carriage  door. 


138  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Thanks  are  a  small  return  for  what  you  have 
done,"  she  said  as  he  rode  by  her  side,  "  yet  they 
are  all  I  have  to  give."  Then  she  stretched  her 
hand  out  to  him  with  an  impulsive  gesture,  — 
"  Robert  Tournay,  I  misjudged  you  when  you  were 
last  at  La  Thierry.  Will  you  forgive  it  ?  " 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  spoken  to  him  as 
one  addresses  an  equal,  and  it  moved  him  greatly. 
He  leaned  forward  and  took  the  hand  she  gave 
him,  looking  down  at  her  with  a  smile  that  lit  up 
his  face,  as  he  said  :  — 

"  Mademoiselle,  I  forgave  the  words  you  spoke 
as  soon  as  they  were  uttered.  It  is  happiness 
enough  to  know  that  I  have  saved  you."  Before 
he  released  it,  he  thought  he  felt  the  hand  in 
his  tremble  a  little. 

The  remembrance  flashed  through  her  mind, 
how,  years  before,  she  had  once  noticed  Tournay's 
manly  bearing  as  he  rode  into  the  chateau-court 
upon  a  spirited  horse.  She  had  at  that  time 
thought  him  handsome,  with  an  air  about  him 
superior  to  his  station,  and  then  had  dismissed  him 
from  her  thoughts.  As  he  rode  before  her  now, 
the  water  still  dripping  from  his  clothing,  hatless, 
with  damp  locks  clinging  to  his  forehead,  she 
thought  she  had  never  looked  upon  a  nobler  figure 
among  all  the  gentlemen  who  in  the  old  days  fre 
quented  the  chateau  of  the  baron,  her  father. 

"  Where  are  we  going  ?  "  she  asked,  with  more 
emotion  than  such  a  simple  question  warranted. 

"To  the  German  frontier,"  was  the  reply. 
"  We  must  travel  rapidly  night  and  day.  I  shall 


OVER  THE  FRONTIER  139 

hardly  dare  to  stop  for  rest  until  you  are  safely 
over  the  border." 

"  I  leave  myself  in  your  charge,"  she  said,  lean 
ing  back  in  the  carriage. 

He  gave  a  word  of  command  and  the  coach 
rushed  forward  through  the  night. 

Tournay's  words  had  recalled  vividly  to  Edme 
her  unhappy  situation.  Although  innocent  of  all 
crime,  she  was  proscribed  and  forced  to  fly  from 
her  own  country  to  take  refuge  among  those  who 
were  invading  it.  And  the  man  who  rode  by  the 
side  of  her  carriage,  and  had  undertaken  to  con 
vey  her  in  safety  across  the  border,  was  a  soldier, 
fighting  for  the  government  that  persecuted  her. 
Laying  her  head  upon  Agatha's  shoulder  she  felt 
her  heart  swell  with  bitterness.  For  hours,  during 
which  Agatha  imagined  that  she  slept,  she  watched 
in  silence  through  the  window  the  dark  outlines  of 
the  swiftly  moving  landscape.  Finally  long  after 
Agatha's  regular  breathing  announced  her  slumber, 
Edine,  worn  out  by  the  excitement  and  fatigue, 
leaned  back  in  the  opposite  corner  and  slept  like 
a  tired  child. 

For  five  days  the  coach  rolled  toward  the  fron 
tier,  Tournay  and  Gaillard  riding  on  horseback. 

Through  Blois,  Orleans,  Arcis  sur-Aube  to  Bar- 
le-Duc  and  on  toward  Metz  they  went,  stopping 
only  to  exchange  their  worn-out  horses  for  fresh 
ones,  and  for  such  few  hours  of  rest  as  were  abso 
lutely  indispensable. 

During  all  the  journey,  Tournay  saw  little  of 
Mademoiselle  de  Roche  fort,  although  her  comfort 


140  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

and  her  safety  were  his  constant  care.  The  pass 
port  with  which  he  was  provided  prevented  all 
delay ;  and  it  was  thought  best  that  mademoiselle 
should  remain  as  secluded  in  the  carriage  as  possi 
ble.  When  she  did  step  out  for  a  breath  of  air 
or  a  few  hours'  rest  at  some  inn  she  always  wore 
a  veil  to  hide  her  features.  Whenever  he  ap 
proached  her  to  inform  her  as  to  the  route  they 
traveled  he  always  did  so  with  the  greatest  defer 
ence,  showing  marked  solicitude  for  her  health 
and  comfort ;  expressing  deep  regret  that  the  na 
ture  of  their  journey  rendered  the  great  speed 
imperative. 

One  afternoon  as  they  crossed  the  little  stream 
of  the  Sarre,  Tournay,  who  had  been  riding  some 
fifty  yards  in  advance,  drew  rein  and  waited  for 
the  carriage  to  come  up  to  him. 

"  In  an  hour,  mademoiselle,"  he  said,  as  in  obe 
dience  to  his  signal  the  vehicle  drew  up  by  the 
roadside,  "  we  shall  be  across  the  frontier,  and  in 
Germany.  At  Hagenhof  resides  the  Baron  von 
Waldenmeer,  who  I  think  is  known  to  you  as 
your  father's  friend." 

"  He  was  one  of  my  father's  friends,"  Mademoi 
selle  Edme  acquiesced. 

"  I  remember  having  often  heard  his  name 
mentioned  at  La  Thierry,"  said  Tournay.  "  So 
I  took  this  direction  rather  than  further  south, 
which  would  have  been  somewhat  shorter.  A  few 
hours  will  bring  us  to  Hagenhof,  where  you  will 
be  able  to  put  yourself  under  the  baron's  protec 
tion." 


OVER  THE  FRONTIER  141 

"  And  you  ?  "  inquired  Edme*,  "  what  are  you 
going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  shall  return  to  France." 

The  armies  of  Prussia  and  Austria,  three  hun 
dred  thousand  strong,  were  drawing  in  on  France, 
to  help  to  crush  out  the  Republic  and  restore  the 
old  regime. 

The  Baron  von  Waldenmeer's  division  was  al 
ready  on  the  frontier,  quartered  at  Falzenberg  — 
waiting  for  other  troops  to  come  up  before  joining 
the  Austrian  army  at  Wissembourg,  near  which 
the  French  had  concentrated  a  large  force. 

On  a  cold  December  afternoon  two  batteries  of 
Prussian  heavy  artillery  were  proceeding  through 
the  wood  on  the  road  going  east  from  Inweiler, 
whence  they  had  been  sent  to  join  the  main  body 
of  troops  at  Falzenberg.  It  was  snowing  and  at 
five  o'clock  darkness  was  already  settling  down  on 
the  woodland  road.  Over  the  snow-carpeted  leaves 
the  wheels  of  the  gun  carriages  rolled  almost 
noiselessly. 

"  Paff,"  growled  Lieutenant  Saueraugen,  wiping 
the  flakes  from  his  eyelashes  for  the  twentieth 
time,  as  he  thought  of  the  hot  sausages  at  that 
moment  being  devoured  in  the  mess-room  at  Fal 
zenberg,  and  ten  miles  between  it  and  him.  "  A 
pest  on  such  weather  and  such  slow  progress !  at 
this  rate  we  shall  not  be  at  Falzenberg  before 
midnight." 

"  Donnenvetter !  what  is  this  ?  "  he  cried  with 
his  next  breath,  as  along  the  road  that  crossed 


142  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

from  the  north  came  a  two-horse  carriage  at  a 
rapid  gait.  The  driver  of  the  vehicle  saw  the 
battery  on  the  other  road,  and  tried  to  check  the 
speed  of  his  horses.  The  rider  on  the  nigh  leader 
of  the  caisson  whirled  his  horse  to  the  left,  but  it 
received  the  carriage  pole  on  the  right  foreleg  and 
went  to  the  ground,  dragging  its  mate  with  it. 
Then  followed  a  snorting  of  frightened  animals 
and  a  rattling  of  harness,  flavored  with  the  shouts 
and  oaths  of  the  lieutenant  and  his  men  as  they 
tried  to  bring  order  out  of  the  entanglement. 

Two  men  on  horseback  rode  up  from  behind  the 
carriage,  and  with  their  assistance  the  fallen  horses 
were  brought  to  their  feet  and  the  broken  harness 
repaired. 

"  Who  the  devil  are  you  that  tear  through  these 
woods  like  this?"  demanded  the  German,  examin 
ing  the  abrasure  on  the  leader's  leg.  "  Come,  give 
account  of  yourselves."  The  two  riders  had  re 
mounted  and  seemed  anxious  to  be  off. 

"  We  are  bound  for  Hagenhof,"  replied  one  of 
them.  "  We  are  in  a  great  hurry,  and  regret  this 
accident,  for  which  we  are  entirely  to  blame. 
Name  the  amount  which  you  think  a  proper  com 
pensation  for  your  injured  horse  and  broken  har 
ness  and  we  will  gladly  pay  it." 

He  had  spoken  in  German  and  in  the  easy,  care 
less  manner  of  one  who  deemed  the  matter  too 
trivial  to  be  the  cause  of  any  controversy. 

"  You  are  French ! "  exclaimed  the  lieutenant, 
looking  at  the  party  closely. 

"  We  are,"  replied  the  man  who  had  spoken 
before. 


OVER  THE  FRONTIER  143 

"  You  must  accompany  me  to  Falzenberg,"  said 
the  German  officer,  "  and  interview  the  general 
there." 

"  What  does  he  say  ? "  inquired  the  second 
Frenchman  of  his  companion. 

"  Come,  you  had  best  not  chatter  your  French 
before  me,"  put  in  the  surly  lieutenant,  as  one  of 
the  Frenchmen  proceeded  to  interpret  to  the  other. 
"  You  may  be  spies  for  all  I  know,  but  that  we 
shall  find  out  when  we  get  to  Falzenberg." 

The  dark  eyes  of  the  second  Frenchman  looked 
inquiringly  at  his  comrade.  The  other  again  trans 
lated  the  officer's  words. 

"We  are  most  unfortunate,  Gaillard,  to  have 
fallen  in  with  this  imbecile,"  was  the  reply. 

"  My  friend  commends  your  prudence  and  judg 
ment,"  repeated  the  interpreter,  his  mouth  widen 
ing  and  showing  his  white  teeth,  "  and  desires  me 
to  tell  you  that  we  have  important  business  at 
Hagenhof.  If  you  will  send  us  there  under  an 
escort,  we  shall  be  able  to  prove  that  we  are  not 
spying  upon  the  movement  of  your  troops." 

The  lieutenant  scowled.  "  Can  so  few  words  of 
your  language  stand  for  all  that  in  German  ?  "  he 
demanded. 

The  Frenchman  laughed  lightly  as  he  replied, 
"  Our  language  is  very  flexible." 

"So  perhaps  may  be  your  necks,"  said  the 
officer  brutally,  a  suspicion  entering  his  mind  that 
he  was  being  laughed  at.  "  But  you  must  come 
with  me  to  Falzenberg,  and  there 's  an  end  of  it." 

"Why  not  to  Hagenhof?"  persisted  Gaillard 
with  perfect  good-humor. 


144  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  To  Falzenberg !  "  roared  the  Prussian  officer, 
swearing  roundly,  "  and  before  we  start,  let  me  see 
what  sort  of  freight  you  are  carrying  along  the 
road."  He  approached  the  carriage  with  the  in 
tention  of  opening  the  door. 

Tournay  wheeled  his  horse  between  him  and  the 
coach  with  a  suddenness  that  made  the  German 
jump  aside  to  avoid  being  trodden  upon  by  the 
animal. 

"  We  are  going  to  General  von  Waldenmeer  at 
Hagenhof,"  he  said,  speaking  his  own  language, 
"  and  if  you  prevent  or  delay  our  journey  you  may 
rue  it." 

The  lieutenant,  infuriated  at  this  interference, 
caught  Tournay's  horse  by  the  bridle  with  one 
hand,  while  the  other  flew  to  his  belt ;  but  the  men 
tion  of  General  von  Waldenmeer's  name  and  the 
ring  of  decision  in  the  speaker's  voice  caused  him 
to  pause. 

"  General  von  Waldenmeer  at  Hagenhof,"  re 
peated  Tournay  slowly  and  distinctly,  as  if  he 
were  speaking  to  a  person  of  defective  hearing. 

"  Who  is  making  so  free  with  the  name  of  Wal 
denmeer  ?  "  cried  a  voice  in  the  French  tongue  but 
with  a  strong  German  accent;  and  half  a  dozen 
Prussian  officers  came  riding  out  of  the  wood, 
the  fresh-fallen  snow  flying  from  the  evergreen 
branches  like  white  down  as  their  horses  drove 
through  them. 

They  circled  round  the  group  by  the  carriage, 
drawing  their  animals  up  with  a  suddenness  that 
threw  them  on  their  haunches. 


OVER  THE  FRONTIER  145 

"  Who  is  it  that  claims  the  friendship  of  von 
Waldenmeer  ?  "  repeated  one  of  the  number,  this 
time  speaking  in  German.  He  was  a  young  man 
about  twenty-two,  with  short,  dark  red  hair,  and 
a  small  mustache.  He  rode  a  black  horse  that 
pranced  and  curvetted  nervously. 

"  These  people,  my  colonel,"  said  the  lieutenant, 
growing  suddenly  polite.  "I  was  about  to  tell 
them"- 

"  Never  mind  what  you  were  about  to  tell  them, 
Lieutenant  Saueraugen,"  replied  the  colonel  haugh 
tily,  "but  inform  me  as  briefly  as  possible  what 
has  occurred." 

Confused  by  the  thought  that  possibly  he  had 
been  rude  to  friends  of  General  von  Waldenmeer, 
the  lieutenant  stammered  through  a  recital  which 
was  far  from  clear. 

While  the  lieutenant  was  speaking,  the  young 
Prussian  colonel  was  slapping  his  boot  sharply 
with  his  riding-whip,  or  checking  the  impatient 
pawing  of  his  horse. 

"  Potstausend ! '"  he  exclaimed,  interrupting 
the  unhappy  lieutenant  in  the  middle  of  his  story. 
"  I  cannot  make  head  or  tail  of  your  account, 
Saueraugen.  Broken  harness,  and  French  spies, 
closed  carriage,  and  injured  horses."  Then,  turn 
ing  to  Tournay,  he  addressed  him  in  French :  — 

"  I  understand  you  are  on  your  way  to  find 
General  von  Waldenmeer,  —  he  is  in  the  field, 
quartered  at  present  at  Falzenberg.  You  can  ac 
company  me  there." 

"  We  are  bound  for  General  von  Waldenmeer's 


146  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

castle  at  Hagenhof,"  replied  Tournay  politely, 
"  and  with  your  permission  we  will  proceed  there." 

"Do  you  know  the  general?"  inquired  the 
Prussian  colonel. 

"  I  have  not  that  honor." 

"I  am  his  son,  Karl  von  Waldenmeer,  and  I 
think  it  would  be  best  for  you  to  accompany  me 
to  Falzenberg,  where  I  am  going  to  join  my  fa 
ther." 

"  Perhaps  if  the  baroness  is  still  at  Hagenhof  it 
would  better  suit  the  inclination  of  the  lady  whom 
I  escort,  Mademoiselle  de  Rochef ort,  to  go  forward 
rather  than  be  compelled  to  go  to  Falzenberg." 

Colonel  von  Waldenmeer  sat  in  thought  during 
the  long  space,  for  him,  of  five  seconds.  "I 
think  you  would  better  come  with  me  as  far  as 
Falzenberg,"  he  said. 

"  As  you  command,"  answered  Tournay. 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say  that  the  occupant 
of  that  carriage  was  a  Mademoiselle  de  Roche- 
fort  ?  "  asked  the  young  von  Waldenmeer,  as  Tour- 
nay  spoke  aside  to  Gaillard. 

"Yes." 

"  What  is  the  nature  of  your  business  with  the 
baron  my  father  ?  "  was  the  next  question,  abruptly 
put. 

"  Will  you  permit  me  to  discuss  that  with  the 
baron  himself  ?  " 

"  As  you  will,"  answered  the  Prussian  colonel 
with  hauteur.  Then  turning  to  the  group  of  offi 
cers  who  had  sat  motionless  upon  their  horses,  he 
said :  — 


OVER  THE  FRONTIER  147 

"  Gentlemen,  you  will  please  accompany  this 
carriage  to  Falzenberg.  Lieutenant  Saueraugen, 
bring  up  your  batteries  with  all  possible  speed  and 
report  to  me.  Franz  von  Shiffen,  you  will  please 
come  with  me."  He  gave  his  black  charger  a 
slight  touch  with  the  spur,  the  spirited  animal 
sprang  forward,  and  he  was  seen  galloping  down 
the  road,  with  Franz  von  Shiffen  riding  hotly 
after  him. 

Baron  von  Waldenmeer,  general  of  the  division 
of  the  Rhine,  was  seated  with  a  beer  mug  before 
him  and  his  pipe  freshly  lit,  enjoying  his  evening 
smoke,  when  word  was  brought  to  him  that  the 
party  of  Frenchmen,  encountered  by  his  son  and 
some  other  members  of  his  staff  on  the  road  from 
Inweiler,  had  arrived  at  Falzenberg,  and  was  now 
awaiting  his  pleasure  in  the  room  below.  His 
son,  who  had  come  in  some  time  before,  had  told 
him  of  the  incident  of  the  meeting. 

The  baron  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke  out  of  his 
capacious  mouth. 

"  Show  the  entire  party  up  here  at  once.  We 
can  then  hear  their  story  and  decide  as  to  the 
probability  of  it.  You,  Karl,  send  word  to  Gen 
eral  von  Scrappenhauer  that  I  shall  have  to  defer 
our  party  of  Skat  for  an  hour.  Ludwig,  have 
your  father's  beer  mug  replenished.  Would  you 
have  his  throat  become  like  the  bed  of  a  dried-up 
stream  ?  And  now  send  up  your  Frenchmen ;  I 
am  waiting  for  them." 

Ludwig  von  Waldenmeer,  who  was  the  picture 
of  his  younger  brother  Karl,  except  that  he  was 


148  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

heavier  in   build  and  larger  of  girth,  passed  the 
beer  flagon  from  his  end  of  the  table  to  his  father. 

Karl  gave  a  few  commands  to  an  orderly,  then 
took  a  seat  by  the  general's  side.  The  latter  was 
a  man  of  about  sixty.  Around  his  shining  bald 
pate  was  a  fringe  of  grizzled  hair  that  had  once 
been  red.  His  mustache  was  a  bristling,  scrubby 
brush  of  4 the  same  color.  Although  not  of  great 
height  he  was  broad  of  chest  and  still  broader 
about  the  waistband ;  and  even  in  his  lightest 
boots  he  rode  in  the  saddle  at  two  hundred  pounds. 

An  orderly  opened  the  door  and  ushered  in  the 
four  French  travelers.  Mademoiselle  de  Koche- 
fort  entered  first.  She  paused  for  a  moment  at 
the  sight  of  a  room  full  of  officers.  Then  she  took 
a  few  steps  into  the  room  and  stood  awaiting  the 
baron's  command.  The  baron  took  one  look  at 
the  figure  before  him,  then  rose  suddenly  to  his 
feet  and  came  toward  her  ;  the  other  officers  took 
the  signal  and  rose  from  their  places  at  the  table 
and  stood  beside  their  chairs. 

"  You  are  the  daughter  of  Honore  de  Rochefort. 
One  has  no  need  to  ask  the  question,  it  is  an 
swered  by  your  face."  And  General  von  Walden- 
meer  took  Edme  by  the  hand  and  led  her  to  a 
seat  by  his  side.  Agatha  kept  at  her  mistress's 
elbow  like  a  faithful  guardian. 

Tournay  and  Gaillard,  travel  -  stained  and 
splashed  with  mud  from  head  to  foot,  remained 
standing  by  the  door. 

"  If  you  have  come,  as  I  surmise,  to  find  in 
Prussia  a  home  denied  you  by  your  native  land, 


OVER  THE   FRONTIER  149 

let  me  say  that  nowhere  will  you  find  a  warmer 
welcome  than  under  the  roof  of  von  Walden- 
meer,"  and  the  general  put  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

"  I  have  come,"  she  replied,  "  to  find  a  refuge 
from  the  persecution  which  follows  me  in  my  own 
unhappy  country.  Thanks  to  the  devotion  of 
these  friends,"  and  she  turned  toward  Tournay 
with  a  look  of  gratitude,  "  I  have  been  able  to 
reach  here  in  safety,  to  throw  myself  upon  your 
protection,  and  to  ask  your  advice  as  to  my  future 
movements." 

"  If  you  will  pardon  this  reception  in  a  rough 
soldier's  camp,  mademoiselle,  and  can  put  up  with 
such  poor  accommodation  as  this  house  affords, 
to-morrow  you  shall  be  escorted  on  to  Hagenhof, 
where  my  wife  will  receive  you  as  one  of  her  own 
daughters."  And  he  bent  over  her  hand  for  the 
second  time. 

This  unusual  show  of  gallantry  on  the  part  of 
their  general  caused  Franz  von  Shippen  to  place 
his  hand  before  his  mouth  to  hide  a  smile,  while 
Ludwig  von  Waldenmeer  looked  up  at  the  ceiling. 

"  Franz,"  called  out  the  general,  "  interview  the 
good  lady  whose  house  we  occupy  and  see  that  the 
best  room  she  has  is  prepared  for  Mademoiselle 
de  Rochefort.  Ludwig,  to-morrow  you  shall  have 
the  honor  of  escorting  this  lady  to  Hagenhof. 
There  you  shall  be  welcome,  mademoiselle,  as  long 
as  you  choose  to  honor  us  with  your  company. 
But  rest  assured  it  will  not  be  long  before  your 
own  country  will  be  rescued  from  the  miscreants 
who  are  devouring  it.  All  Europe  is  in  arms 


150  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

to  avenge  outraged  royalty  ;  the  Prussian  army  of 
two  hundred  thousand  men  is  now  prepared  to 
march  on  Paris.  With  us  are  thousands  of  your 
own  nobility.  We  make  common  cause  against 
anarchy  and  murder.  We  shall  not  rest  until  we 
have  restored  the  monarchy  and  chastised  these 
insolent  Republicans." 

Edme  looked  quickly  in  the  direction  of  Tour- 
nay,  fearful  lest  the  baron's  words  should  stir  him 
to  make  a  reply,  but  he  and  Gaillard  stood  listen 
ing  imperturbably.  From  their  quiet  and  unob 
trusive  demeanor  the  general  had  taken  them  for 
servants  of  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  and  had 
not  given  them  a  second  look. 

"  But  you  are  fatigued,  mademoiselle,"  said  von 
Waldenmeer.  "  To-morrow  morning  will  be  a  more 
fitting  time  to  discuss  your  affairs.  The  good  haus- 
frau  by  this  time  is  preparing  your  quarters.  I 
will  conduct  you  to  them.  Your  followers  will  be 
comfortably  cared  for  outside." 

Edme,  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  escape  further 
conversation,  was  about  to  thank  the  general  for 
his  permission  to  retire  to  her  room,  when  the 
outer  door  opened  and  a  number  of  French  noble 
men,  officers  of  the  general's  staff,  entered  the 
room. 

Among  them  was  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville. 
His  quick  roving  eye  caught  sight  of  Edme  in 
stantly.  He  stopped  in  the  middle  of  a  conversa 
tion  with  a  companion  and  looked  over  his  shoul 
der  hastily  as  if  he  would  retrace  his  steps  without 
attracting  attention  ;  but  it  was  too  late.  The 


OVER  THE  FRONTIER  151 

deep  voice  of  General  von  Waldenmeer  sounded 
in  his  ears. 

"  Ah,  here  are  some  of  your  brave  countrymen, 
mademoiselle,  who  deem  it  no  disgrace  to  serve 
under  the  flag  of  Prussia  in  order  to  reconquer 
the  throne  for  their  rightful  sovereign." 

The  door  behind  de  Lacheville  was  closed  by 
the  Count  de  Beaujeu,  who  was  the  last  to  enter, 
and  the  marquis,  drawing  a  deep  breath  between 
his  set  teeth,  stepped  forward  as  one  who  suddenly 
resolves  to  take  a  desperate  chance. 

"  Cousin  Edme !  "  he  exclaimed,  coming  up  to 
where  she  was  seated  and  endeavoring  to  take  her 
hand.  "  Thank  Heaven  you  have  escaped !  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  in  a  place  of  safety,  thanks  to  a 
brave  gentleman,"  she  replied,  drawing  back  her 
hand.  "  But  do  not  call  me  cousin.  I  ceased  to 
be  your  kinswoman  when  you  deserted  me  at 
Rochefort.  There  are  no  cowards  of  our  blood." 
And  she  turned  from  him  with  a  look  of  unutter 
able  contempt  as  if  he  were  too  mean  an  object  to 
deserve  her  passing  notice.  She  had  spoken  in  a 
low  voice,  yet  so  distinctly  that  all  in  the  room 
heard  what  she  had  said.  A  murmur  of  surprise 
ran  round  the  entire  group  of  officers.  The  mar 
quis  drew  back  under  the  rebuff,  his  face  deadly 
pale,  while  he  darted  at  Edme  a  look  of  hatred  as 
if  he  could  have  killed  her. 

"  What 's  that  ?  "  roared  the  general  as  soon  as 
he  could  master  his  astonishment.  "  One  of  my 
aides  a  coward  ?  " 

De  Lacheville  gave  a  quick  glance  around  the 


152  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

room,  as  a  hunted  man,  brought  suddenly  to  bay, 
might  seek  some  weapon  to  defend  himself.  As 
he  caught  sight  of  Tournay,  his  eyes  gleamed 
wickedly. 

"  This  mad  girl,"  he  exclaimed,  pointing  to 
Mademoiselle  de  Eochefort  as  soon  as  he  could 
control  his  voice,  "  was  once  my  affianced  bride, 
but  she  has  found  a  mate  better  suited  to  her  lik 
ing.  She  has  been  traveling  with  him  throughout 
France,  and  now  she  seeks  to  extenuate  her  own 
conduct  by  slandering  me,  whom  she  has  wronged." 

"  If  you  are  not  the  coward  mademoiselle  has 
called  you,  you  will  answer  to  me  for  that  lie," 
said  Tournay,  throwing  Gaillard's  restraining  hand 
off  from  his  arm  and  advancing  toward  the  mar 
quis  threateningly. 

De  Lacheville  drew  back.  He  remembered  the 
duel  in  the  woods  at  La  Thierry.  He  looked  again 
into  the  dark  eyes  of  the  stern  man  who  confronted 
him,  and  his  mouth  twitched  nervously.  Then 
with  an  effort  he  turned  to  the  French  gentlemen 
at  his  side  and  said,  speaking  rapidly,  "  This  fel 
low  is  a  Eepublican,  one  of  those  who  clamored  for 
King  Louis's  death.  Shall  we  forget  our  oath  to 
kill  these  regicides  wherever  we  may  find  them  ?  " 

Before  he  had  finished  speaking,  three  swords 
were  out  of  their  scabbards  and  three  infuriated 
French  noblemen  sprang  at  Tournay. 

"  Gott  in  Himmel !  "  shouted  General  von  Wal- 
denmeer,  as  his  Prussian  officers  beat  down  the 
points  of  the  excited  Frenchmen,  "will  you  spill 
blood  here  under  my  very  nose  ?  Colonel  Karl 


OVER  THE  FRONTIER  153 

von  Waldenmeer,  place  those  French  gentlemen 
under  restraint,  and  let  there  be  quiet  here  while 
I  examine  into  these  charges." 

The  Marquis  de  Lacheville  had  taken  up  a  posi 
tion  near  the  door. 

"  He  is  Robert  Tournay,  an  officer  of  the  Re 
publican  army !  "  he  cried  out  as  he  sheathed  his 
sword.  "  While  he  is  here  in  the  disguise  of  a 
lackey  in  waiting  to  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort, 
his  intention  is  to  play  the  spy  and  return  with  his 
information  to  France.  For  your  own  sake,  Gen 
eral  von  Waldenmeer,  you  should  place  him  where 
he  can  do  you  no  such  injury." 

"  What  answer  have  you  to  make  to  this  ?  " 
said  the  old  general,  addressing  Tournay.  "  Are 
you  a  servant  of  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort,  or 
are  you  a  spy  of  those  Republican  brigands? 
Speak !  I  condemn  no  man  unheard." 

Tournay  looked  round  the  room  before  replying. 

"  I  am  a  colonel  in  the  Republican  army,"  he 
said  quietly.  "But  I  came  here  solely  to  bring 
mademoiselle  to  a  place  of  safety ;  not  to  spy 
upon  your  army,  which  as  a  matter  of  fact  I 
thought  twenty  miles  further  east." 

General  von  Waldenmeer  broke  the  silence  that 
followed  this  avowal. 

"  You  admit  that  you  are  an  officer  in  the  Re 
publican  army.  You  are  within  our  lines  under 
very  peculiar  circumstances.  You  may  have  taken 
advantage  of  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort's  confi 
dence  in  you  to  play  the  spy.  Until  it  is  proven 
to  the  contrary,  I  must  take  the  ground  that  both 


154  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

you  and  your  companion  are  spies,  and  treat  you 
accordingly.  Colonel  von  Waldenmeer,  you  will 
send  for  a  file  of  soldiers  and  place  these  two  men 
under  arrest." 

"  General  von  Waldenmeer  ! "  said  Edme  de 
Rochefort,  turning  toward  the  old  baron  with  an 
appealing  gesture,  "  you  are  about  to  commit  an 
act  of  grave  injustice.  Colonel  Tournay  is  guilt 
less  of  the  charge  of  being  a  spy.  The  charge 
was  brought  against  him  out  of  malice  and  revenge 
by  the  man  who  has  just  slandered  me  so  basely." 

She  did  not  look  at  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville, 
but  under  the  general  gaze  which  was  directed 
toward  him  as  she  spoke,  he  quailed  and  shrunk 
from  the  room,  shivering  as  with  ague. 

"  This  gentleman,"  she  went  on,  looking  at  Tour- 
nay  gratefully,  "  has  incurred  great  danger  and 
endured  much  privation  in  order  to  bring  me  here 
in  safety.  He  has  been  brave  and  devoted  when 
others  cravenly  deserted  me ;  and  if  he  should  be 
treated  by  you  as  a  spy  it  would  be  as  if  I  had  de 
coyed  him  here  only  to  destroy  him." 

"  No,  mademoiselle,  no,"  said  Eobert  Tournay 
in  a  low  tone. 

By  a  quick  gesture  she  bade  him  be  silent. 

"  General  von  Waldenmeer,  you  are  a  brave 
soldier.  You  have  professed  the  greatest  friend 
ship  for  your  old  friend's  daughter.  She  now  asks 
you  to  release  these  gentlemen.  As  a  soldier  and 
a  gentleman  you  are  bound  to  grant  her  prayer." 

She  spoke  the  words  simply  and  in  the  tone 
which  was  natural  to  her,  as  if  the  request  admit- 


OVER  THE  FRONTIER  155 

ted  of  no  denial ;  and  laying  her  hand  upon  the 
general's  arm  looked  into  his  rough  face. 

For  a  moment  he  sat  in  silence.  His  heavy 
brows  came  down  until  they  shaded  his  eyes  com 
pletely.  Then  taking  the  hand  that  rested  on  his 
sleeve,  he  said  :  — 

"  At  the  risk  of  neglecting  my  duty  as  a  soldier, 
I  will  grant  your  request.  These  men  shall  go 
free,  but,"  he  added  hastily,  as  though  his  consent 
to  their  liberation  had  been  given  too  quickly, 
"  they  must  be  kept  under  surveillance  here  until 
to-morrow,  and  then  they  shall  be  escorted  back 
over  the  frontier.  Colonel  von  Waldenmeer,"  he 
continued,  addressing  his  son,"  "  I  leave  you  to 
conduct  these  French  gentlemen  to  their  quarters. 
I  make  you  responsible  for  their  keeping." 

Edme  held  out  her  hand  to  Tournay.  "  Good 
night,  Colonel  Tournay,"  she  said.  "  It  is  a  great 
joy  and  relief  to  know  that  you  are  to  come  to  no 
harm  through  having  brought  me  here.  And  you, 
who  have  done  so  much  for  me,  will  surely  over 
look  this  last  and  slight  indignity  which  you  are 
called  upon  to  endure  for  my  sake." 

"  Mademoiselle,"  he  replied,  bending  over  her 
hand  and  speaking  in  a  tone  so  low  that  none 
other  in  the  room  could  hear,  "  there  is  nothing  in 
the  world  I  would  not  endure  for  your  sake.  To 
have  you  speak  to  me  like  this  repays  me  a  thou 
sand-fold.  Adieu,  mademoiselle.  Now,  Colonel 
von  Waldenmeer,  I  am  ready  ;  "  and  with  Gail- 
lard  at  his  side  he  followed  young  von  Waldenmeer 
from  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XI 
UNDER  WHICH   FLAG? 

As  the  three  men  came  out  into  the  corridor,  the 
large  outer  door  opened  and  a  sergeant  of  artillery 
stepped  over  the  threshold,  saluted  the  colonel,  and 
stood  awaiting  orders.  The  fine  snow  drifted  past 
him  into  the  hall,  stinging  the  faces  of  von  Wal- 
denmeer  and  his  two  prisoners. 

The  colonel  turned  toward  the  Frenchmen,  and 
addressing  them  in  his  quick  way,  said  :  — 

"  It  is  a  vile  night.  Give  me  your  word  not  to 
leave  the  quarters  to  which  I  assign  you  until  sent 
for,  and  I  will  permit  you  to  pass  the  night  more 
in  comfort  under  this  roof." 

Tournay  gladly  assented,  the  young  von  Wal- 
denmeer  spoke  a  few  words  of  command  to  the 
sergeant,  who  turned  on  his  heel  and  repeated  the 
order  in  guttural  tones  to  some  snow-covered 
figures  behind  him.  The  door  closed  with  a  loud 
bang  and  the  escort  was  heard  marching  away. 

Colonel  Karl  then  led  the  way  up  a  broad  oaken 
staircase  to  a  room  at  the  end  of  a  long  corridor 
on  the  upper  floor. 

"  My  own  room  is  just  opposite,"  said  he  with  a 
gesture  of  the  head,  as  he  threw  open  the  door. 
"  You  will  be  more  comfortable  here  than  in  the 
guard-house." 


UNDER  WHICH  FLAG?  157 

The  house  which  General  von  Waldenmeer  had 
chosen  for  his  headquarters  at  Falzenberg  was  a 
commodious  one,  built  around  an  open  court,  where 
in  summer  a  fountain  played  in  the  centre  of  a 
green  grass  plot.  Tournay  stepped  to  one  of  the 
windows  and  looked  out  upon  the  scene.  The 
bronze  figure  in  the  fountain  was  draped  with  ice, 
and  a  great  mound  of  snow  filled  the  centre  of  the 
square,  where  the  soldiers  had  cleared  a  passage 
for  themselves.  On  the  opposite  side  were  the 
stables,  and  from  the  neighing  and  stamping  of 
hoofs,  Tournay  judged  more  than  a  dozen  horses 
were  kept  there.  Lights  flashed  here  and  there  as 
a  subaltern  or  private  moved  about  in  the  perform 
ance  of  the  night's  duties. 

The  first  thing  which  had  struck  Gaillard's  eye 
on  entering  was  a  large  canopied  bed.  This 
reminded  him  too  forcibly  of  his  fatigue  to  be 
resisted.  He  threw  himself  down  upon  it,  boots 
and  all,  and  was  asleep  as  soon  as  his  head  touched 
the  pillow. 

Von  Waldenmeer  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
room,  slapping  his  hessians  with  a  little  flexible 
riding-whip.  Tournay  began  to  thank  him  for 
the  courtesy  he  had  shown  them,  when  the  latter 
stopped  him  in  his  abrupt  way,  saying :  — 

"  I  was  watching  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville's 
face  while  he  was  denouncing  Mademoiselle  de 
Rochefort,  and  if  ever  I  saw  liar  written  upon  a 
man's  countenance  it  was  on  his  then.  I  wish  that 
he  had  lied  when  he  accused  you  of  being  a  colonel 
in  the  Republican  army."  And  Colonel  Karl 
strode  toward  the  door  impatiently. 


158  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Why  should  you  have  wished  that  ?  "  demanded 
Tournay.  "  I  am  proud  of  my  position." 

"  Bah !  "  exclaimed  the  German,  with  his  hand 
on  the  latch,  "  you  should  be  in  the  Prussian  army. 
It  is  an  honor  to  serve  in  the  army  that  was  built 
up  by  the  great  Frederick.  A  man  of  your  cour 
age  should  not  be  content  to  serve  among  those 
Republican  brigands.  Good-night,"  —  and  he  dis 
appeared  rapidly  through  the  door,  slamming  it 
behind  him. 

Tournay  roused  Gaillard  from  his  slumber. 
Both  men  were  numb  with  fatigue.  They  had 
not  taken  off  their  clothes  and  slept  in  a  bed  since 
leaving  Paris,  and  five  minutes  later  they  had 
thrown  off  their  garments  and  sunk  into  a  deep 
sleep  in  the  large,  white  bed. 

For  ten  hours  Tournay  slept  without  moving. 
Then  he  yawned,  threw  out  both  arms,  opened  his 
eyes  a  little,  and  was  preparing  to  sleep  again  when 
he  became  conscious  that  a  man  was  standing 
beside  the  bed.  Opening  his  heavy  eyes  a  little 
further,  he  recognized  Gaillard  and  said  to  him 
drowsily :  — 

"  Well  I  What  is  it,  Gaillard?  Can't  I  get  a 
few  minutes'  sleep  undisturbed  ?  " 

"  The  forenoon  is  half  gone,"  replied  Gaillard ; 
"  you  've  slept  enough  for  one  man." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  it 's  morning 
already !  "  exclaimed  Tournay,  leaning  on  one 
elbow  and  blinking  at  the  light. 

"  Morning !  The  finest  kind  of  a  morning," 
replied  Gaillard  gayly.  "  I  've  been  up  these  two 


UNDER  WHICH  FLAG?  159 

Lours.  I  gained  permission  to  go  to  our  carriage, 
and  I  have  taken  out  a  change  of  linen  from  our 
equipment  in  the  boot." 

Tournay  sprang  from  the  bed  and  looked  out  of 
the  window.  The  sun  was  high  in  the  heaven,  and 
the  day  was  bright  and  cold. 

"  That  Lieutenant  Sauerkraut,  or  whatever  his 
name  may  be,"  said  Gaillard,  "  has  just  come  up 
to  say  that  the  general  would  like  to  see  you  at 
your  convenience.  The  lieutenant  was  particularly 
civil,  for  him,  so  I  surmise  nothing  will  interfere 
with  our  early  departure.  It's  astonishing  how 
quickly  an  underling  takes  his  tone  from  his  supe 
rior  officer.  I  suppose  it  will  be  better  for  you  to 
wait  upon  the  general  at  once,  while  the  old  gen 
tleman  is  in  a  good  humor,"  continued  Gaillard, 
"  and  as  I  have  been  given  the  liberty  of  the  court 
yard,  I  will  employ  the  time  in  looking  after  our 
horses." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Tournay.  "  I  will  go  to 
General  von  Waldenmeer.  I  hope  nothing  will 
interfere  with  our  immediate  departure." 

General  von  Waldenmeer  was  seated  at  his  table 
with  a  pile  of  maps  and  papers  before  him.  At 
Tournay's  entrance  the  two  officers  who  were 
standing  at  the  general's  side  withdrew  to  the  fur 
ther  end  of  the  room.  It  was  the  same  room  in 
which  the  scene  of  the  previous  evening  had  taken 
place.  On  the  table  at  the  general's  elbow  stood 
his  beer-mug,  filled  with  his  morning  draught. 
The  old  soldier  was  evidently  very  much  absorbed 
in  the  work  before  him,  for  his  heavy  brows  were 


160  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

drawn  over  his  eyes  and  his  lips  were  moving  as 
he  studied  the  papers.  From  time  to  time  he 
reached  out  his  left  hand  mechanically  and  took 
up  the  beer-mug,  refreshing  himself  with  a  long 
pull.  With  the  exception  of  the  two  officers,  there 
were  no  other  occupants  of  the  room. 

The  picture  of  Mademoiselle  Edme,  as  she  had 
appeared  when  pleading  to  the  general  in  his 
behalf,  was  so  vivid  in  Tournay's  mind  that  he 
stood  silently  before  the  table,  oblivious  to  his  sur 
roundings.  He  remained  in  this  position  for  some 
minutes  when  the  general,  upon  one  of  his  searches 
for  inspiration  at  the  bottom  of  the  beer-mug, 
glanced  over  the  rim  and  saw  the  Frenchman 
standing  like  a  statue  before  him. 

"  Potstausend !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  he 
had  set  down  the  mug  and  wiped  the  white  froth 
from  his  mustache.  "  You  were  so  quiet  that  I 
forgot  your  existence  and  have  been  studying  out 
a  plan  of  campaign  against  General  Hoche  under 
your  very  nose.  He 's  a  clever  little  man,  is 
Hoche,"  continued  the  old  German  musingly. 
"  There  is  some  sport  in  beating  him." 

Tournay  smiled  quietly  at  hearing  his  idol  pa 
tronizingly  spoken  of  by  an  officer  who  had  not 
won  half  his  fame. 

"  I  wish  you  better  success  than  your  predecessor 
in  the  attempt,  General  von  Waldenmeer,"  he  said. 

The  general  smiled  grimly  at  this  hit  and  then 
changed  the  subject  by  saying :  - 

"  Last  evening  I  told  you  that  I  would  send  you 
back  to  France  with  an  escort  to  the  frontier." 


UNDER  WHICH  FLAG?  161 

Tournay  bowed  affirmatively. 

"Since  then,  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  has 
told  me  in  full  the  story  of  her  escape  from  Tours, 
recounting  your  part  in  it,  and  dwelling  most  flat 
teringly  upon  your  bravery  and  discretion." 

Tournay  bowed  again  in  acknowledgment. 

"  The  service  you  have  rendered  the  daughter 
of  my  old  friend,  by  effecting  her  rescue  and 
bringing  her  here  in  spite  of  such  great  obstacles, 
makes  my  obligation  to  you  deep,  very  deep.  My 
honor  and  my  inclinations  are  one,  when  they 
move  me  to  accord  you,  not  only  your  freedom, 
but  to  offer  you  a  commission  in  my  son's  regiment, 
the  Tenth  Prussian  heavy  artillery." 

If  the  general  had  ordered  him  out  to  instant 
execution  or  conferred  upon  him  in  marriage  the 
hand  of  his  daughter  Gretchen,  Tournay  could 
not  have  felt  more  surprise.  For  a  few  moments 
he  could  find  no  words  in  which  to  answer,  and 
the  general  turned  to  the  papers  he  had  just  laid 
down. 

"  Is  my  entry  into  your  service  made  a  condi 
tion  of  my  freedom  ?  "  he  finally  found  breath  to 
inquire. 

The  Prussian  general  looked  up  from  the  map 
he  had  been  studying,  pressing  his  fat  finger  upon 
it  to  mark  the  place. 

"  Certainly  not,"  he  replied,  "  I  make  no  con 
ditions  in  paying  a  debt." 

"  Then  I  will  take  my  liberty,  which  you  have 
promised  to  restore  to  me,"  answered  Tournay, 
44  and  return  to  France." 


162  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

It  was  now  the  general's  turn  to  be  surprised. 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  you  will  go  back  to 
Paris?" 

"  I  shall  return  to  the  French  army  at  —  It 
is  needless  to  tell  you  where,  as  you  have  been 
studying  the  map  so  attentively." 

"But,"  interrupted  General  von  Waldenmeer, 
"  within  six  months  our  allied  armies  will  be  in 
Paris.  There  will  be  no  more  Republic,  and  every 
one  who  has  been  instrumental  in  the  death  of 
King  Louis  XYI.  and  the  destruction  of  the  mon 
archy  will  have  to  pay  the  penalty.  You  are  a 
young  man.  You  have  been  led  into  this  repub 
licanism  by  older  heads.  I  offer  you  an  opportu 
nity —  not  only  of  escaping  the  consequences  of 
your  folly  but  the  chance  of  redeeming  yourself 
by  fighting  on  the  right  side  —  and  you  refuse  ?  " 
and  the  general  reached  out  for  the  beer-mug  to 
sustain  himself  in  his  disappointment.  He  was 
so  sincere  in  his  offer  and  in  his  amazement  at  its 
refusal  that  the  angry  color  on  Tournay's  cheek 
faded  away  and  a  smile  crept  to  his  lips. 

"  Come,"  said  the  old  general,  putting  down  his 
mug  after  an  unusually  long  pull  at  the  contents, 
"  you  are  thinking  better  of  it.  I  can  understand 
a  soldier's  disinclination  to  desert  his  colors,  but 
this  is  not  as  if  I  were  asking  you  to  be  a  traitor 
to  your  country.  A  von  Waldenmeer  would  cut 
out  his  own  tongue  rather  than  propose  that  to 
any  other  soldier.  I  am  putting  it  in  your  way  to 
leave  the  service  of  a  faction  who  by  anarchy  and 
rebellion  have  gained  control  of  France.  Under 


UNDER  WHICH  FLAG?  163 

the  banner  of  the  allies  are  the  true  patriots  of 
your  country.  You  have  only  to  throw  off  that 
red,  white,  and  blue  uniform  and  put  on  the  colors 
of  Prussia  and  you  are  one  of  them." 

Again  the  flush  of  resentment  rose  to  Tournay's 
cheek,  but  as  he  looked  down  upon  the  German 
general  who  in  perfect  good  faith  and  seriousness 
made  him  such  a  proposal,  and  as  he  realized  the 
utter  impossibility  of  either  of  them  ever  seeing 
the  subject  in  the  same  light,  his  look  of  anger 
changed  to  one  of  amusement,  and  a  grim  smile 
twitched  at  the  corners  of  his  mustache. 

"  I  appreciate  the  honor  you  would  do  me, 
General  von  Waldenmeer,  but  I  prefer  to  pay  the 
penalty  of  my  folly  and  remain  loyal  to  the  French 
Republic." 

The  general  took  up  his  papers  again.  '  "  Very 
well,"  he  said  gruffly.  "  I  will  provide  you  with 
an  escort  over  the  frontier.  It  will  be  ready  to 
start  within  the  hour."  His  eyebrows  came  down 
and  he  became  deeply  immersed  in  the  study  of 
the  map. 

Tournay  stood  for  a  few  moments  looking  at 
the  fat  forefinger  of  the  old  soldier  as  it  traced  its 
way  over  the  surface  of  the  map.  His  thoughts 
were  of  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort.  He  wondered 
whether  she  had  set  out  on  her  way  to  Hagenhof. 
He  almost  hoped  that  she  had  left  and  that  he 
would  be  spared  the  pain  of  parting  from  her. 
Yet  if  she  were  still  at  Falzenberg  he  knew  he 
never  could  force  himself  to  leave  and  not  make 
an  attempt  to  bid  her  good-by. 


164  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

It  was  with,  these  conflicting  emotions,  mingled 
with  a  reluctance  to  mention  her  name  to  the  gruff 
old  general,  that  he  said  in  a  low  voice :  — 

"  Has  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  started  on  her 
journey  to  Hagenhof  ?  " 

He  received  no  answer. 

There  had  been  a  slight  tremor  in  his  voice  as 
he  spoke  Edme's  name.  Hesitating  for  a  moment, 
he  stepped  to  the  table  and  placing  one  hand  on 
it  he  asked  again  in  a  steady  tone,  "  When  does 
Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  go  to  Hagenhof?" 

The  one  word  "  To-morrow  "  came  abruptly  out 
of  the  large  head  buried  in  the  papers  before  him. 

Tournay  drew  a  sigh  of  relief.  If  she  had 
gone  away,  leaving  him  no  word,  he  would  have 
been  the  most  miserable  of  men.  Without  fur 
ther  words  with  the  general  he  turned  and  left  the 
room. 

As  he  went  along  the  hallway  he  heard  the 
rustle  of  a  woman's  gown  behind  him,  and  turning, 
saw  to  his  great  satisfaction  the  figure  of  Agatha 
hurrying  toward  him. 

"  Agatha,"  he  exclaimed,  as  she  came  up  to 
him,  "  where  is  mademoiselle  ?  Can  I  see  her  ?  " 

"  Mademoiselle  is  in  Frau  Krieger's  apartment 
at  the  further  end  of  the  east  wing.  If  you  will 
come  with  me  I  will  show  you  where  it  is.  It  is 
fortunate  that  I  have  met  you  as  I  do,  else  it 
would  have  been  difficult  to  find  you  in  this  large 
place." 

"  Then  you  were  sent  to  fetch  me  ?  "  inquired 
Tournay  eagerly. 


UNDER  WHICH  FLAG?  165 

"I  did  not  say  that,"  replied  Agatha  with  a 
quiet  smile. 

"  But  you  evidently  were  in  search  of  me,"  per 
sisted  Tournay. 

"  I  have  no  time  to  answer  questions  now,"  she 
replied,  with  a  laugh.  "  Here  is  the  room,"  and 
she  ushered  him  into  a  long  old-fashioned  salon, 
whose  uncomfortable  pieces  of  furniture  looked  as 
if  they  had  stood  for  generations  staring  at  their 
own  ugly  reflections  in  the  polished  surface  of  the 
floor. 

At  one  end  of  the  room  stood  a  porcelain  stove 
in  which  a  fire  was  burning ;  but  the  large  white 
sepulchral  object  seemed  to  chill  the  atmosphere 
more  than  the  fire  could  warm  it.  Two  high  win 
dows  hung  with  heavy  curtains  faced  the  square 
in  front  of  the  house,  while  in  the  rear  two  other 
windows  looked  out  upon  the  courtyard. 

Frau  Krieger,  the  widow  of  a  Prussian  officer 
of  high  rank,  had  reserved  the  salon  and  one  or 
two  adjoining  rooms  for  her  own  use,  and  saw  with 
pride  the  remainder  of  her  domicile  turned  into 
barracks  by  General  von  Waldenmeer  and  his 
staff. 

"  Wait  here  a  moment  and  I  will  tell  mademoi 
selle,"  said  Agatha,  traversing  the  salon  and  dis 
appearing  through  a  door  in  the  further  side. 
Tournay  walked  to  the  front  window  and  glanced 
out  on  the  street. 

The  sentinel  at  the  porte-cochere  was  on  the 
point  of  presenting  arms  to  Ludwig  von  Walden 
meer,  who  rode  out ;  and  two  of  the  general's  staff 


166  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

officers  stood  smoking  and  chatting  in  front  of  the 
building.  Tournay's  alert  ear  caught  the  sound 
of  light  footsteps,  and  he  turned  just  as  Edme 
crossed  the  threshold  from  the  inner  room. 

He  had  told  himself  many  times  within  the  last 
few  minutes  that  the  interview  must  be  a  brief  one 
if  he  were  to  retain  complete  mastery  over  his  feel 
ings.  As  he  approached  her,  his  face,  in  spite  of 
his  efforts  to  control  it,  expressed  some  of  the  emo 
tions  which  the  sight  of  her  awakened. 

She  extended  her  hand  to  him  in  her  graceful, 
natural  way,  and  he  bent  over  it,  mechanically 
uttering  the  words  he  had  been  repeating  over  and 
over  to  himself. 

"  I  have  come,  mademoiselle,  to  say  adieu." 

At  this,  the  color  which  had  mantled  her  cheek 
as  he  touched  her  fingers  disappeared. 

"  You  have  not  seen  General  von  Waldenmeer, 
then  ?  "  she  asked  quickly. 

"Yes,  mademoiselle,  and  because  I  have  seen 
him  I  intend  to  start  at  once." 

"  General  von  Waldenmeer  says  that  in  less 
than  three  months'  time  the  Prussian  army  will  be 
in  Paris,"  said  Edme. 

A  slight  smile  of  incredidity  was  Tournay's  only 
reply. 

"  The  monarchy  will  be  restored,"  she  contin 
ued  ;  "  little  mercy  will  be  shown  the  Eepublicans. 
They  will  have  justice  meted  out  to  them  by  their 
conquerors." 

"  The  allied  armies  will  never  reach  Paris, 
mademoiselle,  and  before  they  restore  the  mon- 


UNDER  WHICH  FLAG?  167 

archy  they  must  kill  every  Kepublican  who  stands 
between  them  and  the  throne." 

"I  do  not  want  them  to  kill  you,"  she  said 
simply. 

His  heart  beat  wildly.  For  an  instant  he  did 
not  speak.  When  he  could  trust  his  voice  to  an 
swer  he  said :  — 

"  I  thank  you  deeply  for  your  solicitude,  made 
moiselle,  but  whatever  happens  I  must  go  back  to 
my  duty." 

Edme  hesitated  a  moment,  then  spoke,  at  first 
with  evident  effort ;  then  warming  into  a  tone 
of  almost  passionate  entreaty. 

"  You  have  done  much  for  an  unhappy  woman, 
Robert  Tournay.  The  remembrance  of  the  loyalty 
and  devotion  with  which  you  watched  over  and 
protected  me  shall  never  pass  out  of  my  memory. 
The  de  Rocheforts  do  not  easily  forget  such  a  debt 
as  I  owe  you.  In  an  attempt  to  repay  it  in  some 
measure,  I  persuaded  General  von  Waldenmeer  to 
offer  you  an  honorable  position  in  his  service.  I 
am  a  proud  woman,  Monsieur  Tournay,  and  it  cost 
me  something  to  make  such  an  appeal  to  the  Prus 
sian  officer,  and  now  you  reject  his  offer  and  pre 
sent  yourself  before  me  so  coolly  and  say  carelessly, 
4 1  have  come,  mademoiselle,  to  bid  you  adieu.'  " 

"  You  think  it  easy  for  me  to  say  those  words  ?  " 
replied  Tournay  vehemently. 

She  did  not  wait  for  him  to  finish,  but  went 
on :  — 

"  I  place  it  in  your  power  to  serve  the  rightful 
cause,  honorably  and  loyally,  —  the  cause  of  the 


168  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

king  ;  my  cause,  Robert  Tournay,  and  you  refuse 
to  do  so." 

"  Do  you  not  see  that  what  you  propose  would 
be  my  dishonor  ?  "  he  asked  gently. 

"  No,"  answered  Edme*  firmly.  "  You  are  a 
brave  but  obstinate  man,  who  madly  pursues  a 
wicked  course  ;  because,  having  once  espoused  it, 
you  think  to  desert  it  would  be  disloyal.  You  are 
mad,  Robert  Tournay,  but  I  will  rescue  you  from 
your  folly.  I  will  save  you  in  spite  of  yourself. 
I  command  you  to  stay  here  !  "  and  with  the  same 
imperious  gesture  which  he  knew  so  well  of  old, 
she  stood  before  him,  her  dark  blue  eyes,  as  was 
their  wont  under  stress  of  excitement,  flashing 
almost  black.  The  tone  was  one  of  command,  but 
there  was  in  it  a  note  of  entreaty  that  went  to  his 
heart.  He  caught  the  hand  which  she  held  out  to 
him,  and  exclaimed  fervently :  — 

"I  would  give  ten  years  of  life  to  be  able  to 
obey  you,  but  it  cannot  be.  You  do  not  know 
what  you  are  asking  of  me  or  you  would  not  put 
my  honor  thus  upon  the  rack.  It  is  cruel  of  you, 
mademoiselle,  but  I  forgive  you.  You  cannot 
understand.  How  should  you  —  you  are  of  the 
Monarchy,  and  I  am  of  the  Republic.  The  Re 
public  calls  me  and  I  must  go." 

"The  Republic!"  repeated  Edme,  "Oh!  exe 
crable  Republic  !  It  has  robbed  me  of  everything 
in  the  world  —  family,  estate,  friends,  and  now  "  — 
She  paused,  the  sentence  incomplete  upon  her  lips, 
and  looked  at  him  with  an  expression  of  pain  upon 
her  face  as  if  some  violent  struggle  were  taking 


UNDER  WHICH  FLAG?  169 

place  within  her.  "  And  now  you  are  going  back 
to  it.  You  may  become  its  victim  ;  you,  who  are 
so  brave  and  strong  and  noble.  Yes,"  she  contin 
ued,  "  I  will  give  the  word  its  full  meaning,  Robert 
Tournay,  you  are  noble  —  too  noble  to  become  a 
martyr  in  such  a  cause.  I  entreat  you  not  to  go. 
I  fear  for  your  safety." 

Tournay 's  head  swam.  For  a  moment  he  felt 
that  he  must  fold  her  in  his  arms  and  tell  her  that 
for  her  sake  he  would  give  up  everything  in  the 
world  for  which  he  had  striven,  —  country,  liberty, 
and  honor  ;  the  Republic  itself. 

With  a  mighty  effort  he  threw  off  the  feeling  of 
weakness,  passionately  crying,  "  For  God's  sake, 
mademoiselle,  do  not  speak  to  me  like  that.  You 
will  make  me  forget  my  manhood.  You  will  make 
me  act  so  that  your  respect,  which  I  have  been  so 
fortunate  as  to  win,  will  turn  to  contempt.  You 
could  almost  make  me  turn  traitor  to  the  Re 
public." 

"  What  is  this  Republic  ?  this  creature  of  the 
imagination  which  you  place  above  all  else  in  the 
world?"  she  asked  impetuously.  "What  has  it 
done  for  France?  What  has  it  done  for  you?  " 

Before  Tournay  could  answer,  the  sound  of  mar 
tial  music  was  heard  outside,  and  the  measured 
tread  of  passing  troops  shook  the  room.  He 
stepped  to  the  window  and  drawing  aside  the  cur 
tains  motioned  Edrne  to  come  to  his  side. 

Wonderingly  she  approached  and  saw  a  brigade 
of  infantry  passing  in  review  of  the  general  of 
division.  They  marched  with  absolute  precision, 


170  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

the  sun  reflecting  on  the  polished  barrels  of  their 
guns  as  on  a  solid  wall. 

"  There  go  the  best  troops  in  the  world,"  said 
Tournay.  Edme  looked  up  in  his  face  with  sur 
prise  at  his  sudden  change  of  manner. 

"  The  soldiers  of  Prussia :  at  the  command  of 
their  officers  they  will  march  like  that  to  the  bat 
teries'  mouth,  closing  up  the  gap  of  the  fallen  men 
with  clock-work  movements.  There  are  two  hun 
dred  thousand  of  them,  and  they  are  preparing  to 
attack  France.  Joined  with  them  are  the  tried 
veterans  of  Austria.  On  the  sea,"  he  continued, 
"  the  fleets  of  England  are  bearing  down  upon 
the  ports  of  France.  In  the  south,  Spain  is  pour 
ing  her  soldiers  over  the  Pyrenees.  These  allied 
armies  have  banded  together  to  destroy  France. 
Yet  we  shall  throw  them  back  again,  as  we  did 
at  Wattignes  and  at  Jemappes.  There  the  flower 
of  the  European  armies  was  scattered  by  our  raw 
French  troops.  Although  outnumbered  and  out- 
mano3uvred,  the  men  of  France  hurled  back  their 
foes  in  broken  and  disordered  array.  And  why  ? 
Because  in  the  heart  of  every  Frenchman  burns 
the  new-born  fire  of  liberty.  He  is  fighting  for 
the  freedom  he  has  bought  so  dearly.  He  is 
fighting  for  that  Republic  which  has  made  him 
what  he  is  —  a  man !  It  is  France  against  the 
world  !  and  by  the  Republic  alone  will  she  triumph 
over  her  enemies.  That  is  my  answer,  mademoi 
selle.  The  Republic  has  made  a  new  France,  and 
/  am  part  of  it.  At  her  call  I  must  leave  every 
thing  and  go  to  her  defense." 


UNDER   WHICH  FLAG?  171 

While  he  spoke  thus,  Edme  saw  his  face  ani 
mated  with  a  light  she  had  learned  to  know  so 
well,  —  the  same  light  that  had  shone  from  his 
eyes  when  he  confronted  the  mob  in  her  chateau ; 
the  same  fire  that  flashed  as  he  defended  himself 
before  General  von  Waldenmeer. 

"  You  say  I  place  my  duty  to  the  Republic  above 
any  earthly  consideration,"  he  said.  "Let  me 
tell  you  that  I  hold  your  respect  still  dearer.  If  I 
should  desert  my  cause,  the  cause  for  which  I  have 
lived,  should  I  not  lose  that  respect  ?  Ask  your 
own  heart,  mademoiselle,  would  it  not  be  so  ?  " 

She  stood  in  silence.  Then  her  eyes  met  his. 
He  read  her  answer  there  before  she  spoke,  and  in 
the  look  she  gave  him  he  thought  he  read  still 
more  —  something  he  dared  not  believe,  scarcely 
dared  hope. 

"  You  are  right,"  she  replied,  speaking  slowly 
and  distinctly.  "  Go  back  to  France !  It  is  I 
who  bid  you  go." 

"  I  knew  you  would  tell  me  to  go,"  he  replied. 

The  sound  of  voices  in  the  corridor  outside  fell 
upon  their  ears. 

"  There  are  Gaillard  and  the  escort,"  said  Tour- 
nay,  sadly.  "  Mademoiselle,  good-by !  I  may  never 
see  you  again.  But  I  thank  God  that  you  are  here 
in  safety,  and  I  shall  find  some  happiness  in  the 
thought  that  I  have  been  an  instrument  in  your 
deliverance." 

She  did  not  answer,  but  stretched  out  her  hand 
to  him.  He  took  it,  and  dropping  on  one  knee, 
put  it  to  his  lips.  "  It  is  for  the  last  time,"  he 


172  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

said,  looking  up  at  her.  His  face  was  deadly  pale, 
and  there  was  a  look  of  pleading  in  his  brown 
eyes. 

She  placed  her  other  hand  upon  his  head.  It 
was  but  the  slightest  touch,  as  if  she  yielded  to  a 
sudden  impulse,  and  then  with  the  same  swift 
movement  she  drew  away  from  him. 

"  As  it  must  be,  I  pray  you  to  go  quickly,"  she 
said,  and  without  waiting  for  a  reply  she  turned 
and  left  him. 

Tournay  rose  to  his  feet,  —  "I  swear  to  you 
now,  mademoiselle,  that  some  day  I  shall  see  you 
again,"  and  he  rushed  from  the  room  to  the  court 
yard  below. 

"  Are  the  horses  ready  ? "  he  whispered  hoarsely, 
grasping  Gaillard  by  the  arm. 

"  At  the  door  with  an  escort  of  Prussian  offi 
cers,"  was  the  reply. 

"What  time  is  it?" 

"  Three  hours  before  dark." 

"  We  must  be  over  the  frontier  and  well  into 
France  by  to-night,"  was  Tournay 's  rejoinder. 
"Come!" 

Standing  by  the  window,  Edme  saw  him  leap 
into  the  saddle.  He  gave  one  look  in  her  direction, 
but  could  not  see  her,  concealed  as  she  was  by  the 
heavy  curtains. 

She  heard  the  officers  laughing  and  talking 
among  themselves.  She  saw  one  of  the  men  jump 
from  his  horse,  tighten  a  saddle  girth,  and  remount 
with  an  agile  spring.  Then  Colonel  von  Walden- 
meer  approached  and  addressed  some  remark  to 


UNDER  WHICH  FLAG?  173 

Eobert  Tournay.  The  latter,  who  had  been  sitting 
erect  and  motionless  upon  his  horse,  turned  slightly 
in  the  saddle  to  answer  the  Prussian  officer. 

Edme  could  see  that  his  features  were  set  and 
their  expression  stern. 

Colonel  von  Waldenmeer  mounted  his  own  horse, 
gave  a  word  of  command,  and  the  party  started 
forward. 

Edme  watched  them  as  they  went  up  the  road. 
Ten  horses  riding  two  abreast,  the  snow  flying  out 
from  under  the  heels  of  the  galloping  hoofs.  She 
watched  them  until  the  square  shoulders  of  Colonel 
Tournay  were  hardly  distinguishable  from  those 
of  Colonel  Karl  who  rode  beside  him.  The  caval 
cade  disappeared  around  a  bend  in  the  road,  and 
Edme  turned  from  the  wintry  aspect  without  to 
the  dreary  salon  with  a  heavy  heart. 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  FOUR  COMMISSIONERS 

UNDER  the  escort  of  Karl  von  Waldenmeer  and 
half  a  dozen  of  his  French  officers,  Tournay  and 
Gaillard  rode  rapidly  toward  the  French  bound 
ary. 

It  had  stopped  snowing  during  the  night,  and 
the  weather  was  clear  and  cold. 

They  rode  in  silence,  no  sound  being  heard  but 
the  regular  dull  beating  of  their  horses'  hoofs  on 
the  snow-covered  ground. 

They  drew  out  of  the  wood  and  saw  the  frozen 
surface  of  the  Rhine  before  them,  the  sun  dazzling 
their  eyes  with  its  reflected  light  upon  the  ice. 

With  one  accord  the  party  reined  in  their  horses 
and  sat  motionless,  looking  at  the  glorious  sight  of 
the  ice-bound  river. 

Karl  von  Waldenmeer  was  the  first  to  break 
the  silence.  Pointing  with  his  gloved  hand  toward 
the  opposite  shore  he  said :  — 

"  There,  gentlemen,  is  France,  and  my  road  ends 
here." 

Tournay  merely  made  an  inclination  of  the  head 
in  assent.  He  was  thinking  sadly  of  Edme  stand 
ing  by  the  window  in  the  cheerless  old  salon  at 
Falzenberg ;  but  as  he  looked  out  over  the  river 


THE   FOUR  COMMISSIONERS  175 

towards  his  own  land  he  remembered  the  army  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Vosges ;  the  prospect  of  the 
impending  campaign  caused  his  spirits  to  revive, 
and  he  replied  :  — 

"We  owe  you  thanks,  Colonel  von  Walden- 
meer,  for  the  kindness  you  have  been  pleased  to 
show  us.  When  we  meet  again  it  will  doubtless  be 
upon  the  field  of  battle,  but  I  shall  not  even  then 
forget  your  courtesy  of  to-day." 

"  It  will  always  give  me  pleasure  to  meet  you 
again,  under  any  circumstances,  Colonel  Tour- 
nay,"  said  the  Prussian,  "  and  if  it  be  on  the  field, 
to  cross  swords  with  you.  A  brave  foe  makes  a 
good  friend,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  count  you  as 
both  of  these.  And  now,  gentlemen,  we  will  re 
lieve  you  of  our  escort ;  there  lies  your  way  over 
that  bridge,  just  below  here.  We  return  to  Fal- 
zenberg." 

"  Let  us  cross  upon  the  ice,"  said  Gaillard  to 
Tournay  ;  "  it  will  bear  our  weight  easily." 

They  rode  down  the  bank.  At  the  brink  their 
horses  drew  back,  but  being  urged  by  their  riders, 
went  forward,  feeling  the  ice  daintily  with  their 
forefeet  with  cat-like  caution.  Seeing  that  the 
ice  was  quite  safe,  the  Frenchmen  put  spurs  into 
their  horses  and  the  animals  swung  into  a  gallop, 
their  iron-shod  feet  cutting  into  the  ice  with  a 
pleasant,  crunching  sound. 

Reaching  the  further  side,  they  rode  up  the 
steep  bank,  then  reined  in  their  horses  and  looked 
back.  The  declining  rays  of  the  sun  tipped  the 
snow-clad  hemlock  trees  on  the  other  side  of  the 


176  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

river  with  crimson,  and  against  the  dark  outline  of 
the  forest  behind,  the  figures  of  Colonel  von  Wal- 
denmeer  and  his  officers  sat  motionless  as  statues. 
Each  party  gave  the  military  salute,  and  the  Prus 
sians  rode  back  into  the  wood,  while  Tournay  and 
Gaillard  sat  looking  after  them  until  they  were  no 
longer  in  sight. 

"  We  are  on  French  soil  once  more,"  exclaimed 
Tournay,  "  and  now  to  join  General  Hoche  and 
fight  for  it." 

"  I  had  best  return  to  Paris,"  said  Gaillard. 

"  I  fear  to  have  you  return  there  now,  after 
having  put  your  head  in  danger  by  assisting  me," 
said  Tournay  anxiously. 

"  I  shall  be  as  safe  in  Paris  as  anywhere  in  the 
world,"  replied  his  friend.  "  Nobody  will  sus 
pect  the  actor  Gaillard  of  having  any  connection 
with  the  flight  of  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort.  I 
cannot  do  better  than  to  return  to  Paris  and  re 
sume  my  usual  mode  of  life  there.  While,  if  you 
are  suspected,  as  is  more  likely,  of  instigating  or 
effecting  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort's  escape  from 
Tours,  you  must  look  to  your  military  reputation 
and  your  influence  in  the  convention  to  protect 
you  from  an  inquiry  on  the  part  of  the  rabid  revo 
lutionists." 

"  What  you  say,  Gaillard,  is  sound  reasoning. 
I  will  follow  your  advice.  Embrace  me,  my 
friend,  and  let  us  part  here." 

"  Good-by  until  we  meet  again,  my  colonel !  " 
was  Gaillard' s  only  audible  reply,  and  then  he 
rode  off  toward  the  west,  while  Tournay  turned 


THE  FOUR  COMMISSIONERS  177 

his  horse  in  the  direction  of  the  north,  where  the 
French  troops  lay  encamped. 

It  was  about  noon  of  the  next  day  when  he 
reached  the  French  army,  and  stopping  only  at 
his  own  tent  to  put  on  his  uniform  he  hurried  to 
the  headquarters  of  General  Hoche  and  reported 
for  duty.  He  had  traveled  so  rapidly  from  Tours 
that  he  reached  the  army  almost  as  soon  as  Gen 
eral  Hoche  expected  him,  and  the  general  attrib 
uted  the  delay  of  a  day  or  so  to  the  bad  condition 
of  the  roads. 

Tournay  hesitated  to  set  him  right  in  the  mat 
ter,  as  he  deemed  it  more  prudent  to  refrain  from 
mentioning  to  any  one  his  part  in  Mademoiselle  de 
Rochefort's  escape. 

"  What  news  do  you  bring  from  the  conven 
tion  ?  "  was  the  question  of  the  general  as  they 
were  seated  alone. 

"  Bad !  "  replied  Tournay,  "  as  you  can  tell  by 
the  tone  of  these  dispatches.  The  convention  has 
many  able  men  in  it,  but  they  are  dominated  too 
entirely  by  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal,  and  that 
body  is  dominated  too  much  by  one  man.  His 
power  is  ruining  the  Republic.  Unless  we  get  rid 
of  Robespierre,  we  might  as  well  go  back  to  the 
monarchy." 

After  a  few  moments  spent  in  reading  the  pa 
pers  Tournay  had  put  in  his  hand,  General  Hoche 
looked  up  with  an  expression  of  annoyance  on  his 
brow. 

"  Yes ;  the  insulting  tone  of  this  dispatch  is 
almost  beyond  endurance.  I  am  glad  after  all 


178  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

that  my  business  is  out  here  fighting  the  external 
enemies  of  France.  Were  I  at  Paris,  I  should  be 
embroiling  myself  daily  with  some  of  those  who 
are  in  power.  If  we  meet  with  the  slightest  re 
verses  here  at  the  front  there  is  a  howl  from  St. 
Just  and  that  crowd  that  we  are  betraying  the 
Republic.  Meanwhile  they  furnish  us  with  a  beg 
garly  equipment.  It  is  they  who  are  betraying  the 
Republic.  Were  it  not  for  Danton  we  should  get 
nothing.  He  alone  makes  success  against  our  ene 
mies  possible.  And  we  must  be  successful,  Colonel 
Tournay ;  look  here  at  the  plan  of  campaign." 

And  the  young  general,  in  his  military  ardor, 
forgetting  entirely  the  insulting  dispatch,  turned 
with  enthusiasm  to  the  maps  which  lay  spread  out 
on  the  table. 

"  Here  are  the  bulk  of  the  Austrian  forces  at 
Wissembourg.  That  old  German  beer-barrel  von 
Waldenmeer  is  at  Falzenberg.  He  intends  to 
concentrate  his  troops  there  and  then  bring  them 
up  to  join  the  Austrian  general,  Wurmser." 

Tournay  started  at  his  own  general's  accurate 
information  in  regard  to  the  enemy's  position  and 
plans. 

"  We  must  attack  Wurmser  at  once  before  he 
can  receive  reinforcements,  and  then  proceed  to 
Landau.  They  have  beaten  us  once  at  Wissem 
bourg  and  will  not  be  looking  for  us  to  take  the 
offensive  again  so  soon.  I  have  already  given  the 
order  to  mobilize  the  troops.  I  and  my  staff  will 
ride  forward  this  evening.  By  to-morrow  night 
we  shall  have  retaken  Wissembourg." 


THE  FOUR  COMMISSIONERS  179 

"  One  moment,  general,"  interrupted  Tournay, 
as  Hoche  took  up  another  map.  "  I  wish  to  tell 
you  that  I  have  just  seen  General  von  Walden- 
meer  at  Falzenberg." 

Hoche  looked  at  his  officer  with  surprise. 

"  I  went  to  the  Prussian  frontier  on  an  errand, 
the  nature  of  which  I  should  prefer  to  keep  secret 
for  the  present.  I  was  suspected  of  being  a  spy, 
taken  prisoner,  and  brought  before  General  von 
Waldenmeer.  He  listened  to  my  explanations 
and  released  me  under  circumstances  no  less  pecu 
liar  than  those  which  brought  me  within  his  lines." 
Here  Tournay  stopped,  the  blood  coming  to  the 
surface  under  the  bronze  of  his  cheek  at  the  steady 
gaze  of  General  Hoche. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  inquired  the  latter. 

"That  is  all,"  answered  his  colonel,  "except 
that  had  I  not  made  this  detour  I  should  have  been 
here  twenty-four  hours  earlier,  and  that  as  I  got 
within  the  Prussian  lines  by  mistake  and  did  not 
go  as  a  spy,  I  can  give  you  no  information  which 
you  have  not  already  obtained." 

"  If  you  had  arrived  twenty-four  hours  later 
you  would  have  missed  the  grandest  opportunity 
of  your  life  ;  I  intend  to  give  you,  Colonel  Tour- 
nay,  the  command  of  a  brigade  in  the  approaching 
battle." 

"  A  brigade  ?  "  echoed  Tournay  in  surprise. 

"  You  shall  atone  for  your  breach  of  discipline 
by  bearing  great  responsibility  in  the  attack.  I 
intend  your  brigade  to  be  where  the  fight  is  hot 
test,  and  if  there  is  anything  left  of  it  after  the 


180  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

engagement,  and  of  you,  colonel,  you  shall  con 
tinue  to  command  it  and  I  will  recommend  you 
for  promotion." 

Tournay  grasped  his  chief  by  the  hand. 

"  You  may  be  sure,  General  Hoche,  that  I  shall 
do  my  utmost  to  deserve  the  honor  you  have  done 
me." 

"  I  was  persuaded  of  that  before  I  determined 
to  give  you  the  command,"  replied  Hoche  ;  "  now 
go  forward  and  join  your  regiment.  By  midnight 
I  shall  be  at  Wissembourg  and  shall  have  one  last 
word  with  all  of  my  generals.  I  do  not  believe 
in  protracted  councils  of  war." 

That  evening  Colonel  Tournay  was  encamped 
before  the  field  of  Wissembourg.  He  sat  in  his 
tent  waiting  for  the  summons  that  should  bring 
him  to  General  Hoche's  council  board. 

An  orderly  entered  with  the  word  that  a  com 
mission  of  four  men  from  jthe  Committee  of  Public 
Safety  at  Paris  wished  to  speak  to  him. 

Tournay  started  from  the  reverie  into  which  he 
had  fallen.  His  thoughts  had  been  dwelling  upon 
the  events  of  the  past  week,  and  the  announcement 
struck  a  discordant  note  in  his  meditation.  "  Show 
them  in,"  he  replied  briefly. 

In  another  moment  the  four  commissioners  stood 
before  him.  Three  of  the  men  were  unknown  to 
him,  but  the  fourth  was  Gardin.  The  latter,  as 
spokesman,  stood  a  little  in  advance  of  the  others. 
On  his  face  there  was  a  look  of  mingled  insolence 
and  triumph. 

Tournay's  gorge  rose  at  sight  of  the  man,  but 


THE  FOUR  COMMISSIONERS  181 

remembering  that  he  was  the  recognized  emissary 
from  the  committee  he  controlled  his  impulse  to 
kick  him  from  the  tent. 

"  Will  you  be  seated,  citizens  ?  "  he  said,  rising 
and  addressing  his  remark  more  to  the  three  com 
missioners  who  were  not  known  to  him  than  to 
Gardin.  "  Orderly,  bring  seats." 

"  Our  business  with  you  will  be  of  such  short 
duration  that  we  shall  have  no  need  to  sit  down," 
answered  Gardin  curtly. 

"  Orderly,  do  not  bring  the  seats,"  was  Tour- 
nay's  quick  order,  as  he  resumed  his  former  place 
on  a  camp-chair  and  sat  carelessly  looking  at  the 
four  men  standing  before  him.  This  placed  Gar- 
din  in  just  the  opposite  role  from  that  he  had 
intended  to  assume.  He  saw  his  mistake  at  once, 
and  hastened  to  recover  his  lost  ground. 

"  Citizen  colonel,"  he  said,  drawing  a  paper 
from  his  pocket  and  putting  it  in  Tournay's  hands, 
"  here  is  a  document  from  the  committee  which 
even  you  cannot  question.  It  is  addressed  to  Rob 
ert  Tour  nay." 

Tournay  broke  the  large  red  seal  of  the  letter 
and  read :  — 

CITIZEN  COLONEL  ROBERT  TOURNAY;  with  the 
Army  of  the  Moselle,  Citizen  General  Lazare 
Hoche  commanding :  — 

The  Citizen  Colonel  Tournay  is  hereby  sum 
moned  to  appear  before  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety  to  answer  charges  affecting  his  patriotism 
and  loyalty  to  the  Republic.  He  will  resign  his 


182  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

command  at  once,  and  return  to  Paris  in  the  com 
pany  of  the  four  commissioners  who  bring  him 
this  document. 

Signed  :  For  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety, 

COUTHON, 
ST.  JUST. 

This  5th  Pluviose,  the  year  II.  of  the  French 
Republic  one  and  indivisible. 

When  he  had  finished  reading  the  document 
Tournay  folded  it  carefully  and  placed  it  in  his 
pocket. 

"  Well  ?  "  demanded  Gardin  impatiently. 

"  I  cannot  at  present  leave  the  army,"  was  the 
reply. 

The  four  commissioners  exchanged  looks. 

"  We  are  on  the  eve  of  a  decisive  engagement 
with  the  enemy.  When  that  is  over  —  in  a  few 
days,  if  I  am  alive,  I  will  answer  the  committee's 
summons." 

"  We  were  instructed  to  bring  you  back  with  us 
at  once,"  said  one  of  the  commissioners. 

"And  we  '11  do  it,  too,"  muttered  another  under 
his  breath. 

The  fourth  pulled  Gardin  by  the  sleeve  and  whis 
pered  something  in  his  ear. 

"I  regret,  citizen  commissioners,"  repeated  Tour- 
nay,  "  that  I  cannot  at  present  leave  the  army." 

Then  rising  suddenly  and  confronting  Gardin 
he  said  passionately  :  — 

"  Tell  your  masters  that  it  is  not  necessary  to 
drag  Robert  Tournay  to  Paris  like  a  felon,  that  he 


THE  FOUR  COMMISSIONERS  183 

will  appear  before  the  committee  of  his  own  free 
will ;  that  he  regards  the  welfare  of  France  as 
paramount  to  everything  else,  and  that  his  duty  to 
her  will  take  him  to  the  field  to-morrow." 

"  Your  answer  is  not  satisfactory  to  us,"  per 
sisted  Gardin,  "  nor  will  it  be  to  the  committee. 
Once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  citizen  colonel, 
will  you  obey  this  summons  as  it  is  written  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  thundered  Tournay. 

"  Then  in  the  name  of  the  Republic  I  suspend 
you  from  your  command,  and  arrest  you  as  a  trai 
tor.  Lay  hands  upon  him  !  " 

Gardin  himself,  remembering  his  previous  en 
counter  with  Tournay  in  which  he  had  come  off 
so  poorly,  merely  gave  the  command,  leaving  the 
others  to  execute  it.  Two  of  them  stepped  for 
ward  with  alacrity,  one  upon  each  side  of  Tournay, 
and  grasped  him  by  the  arms. 

He  offered  no  resistance,  but  raising  his  voice  a 
little  called  out :  — 

"  Officers  of  the  guard  !  " 

Half  a  dozen  of  his  Hussars  who  were  in  the 
adjoining  tent  hastened  in  at  his  call. 

"  Arrest  these  four  men  !  "  commanded  Tournay 
quietly. 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  Gardin  ;  "  arrest  us  at  your 
peril.  We  are  the  authorized  emissaries  of  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety,"  and  he  flourished 
his  commission  in  the  soldiers'  faces.  "  We  are 
but  carrying  out  our  strict  orders.  To  lay  hands 
upon  us  will  be  to  bring  down  upon  your  heads 
the  vengeance  of  Robespierre." 


184  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

The  Hussars  stood  still.  The  name  of  the  man 
who  governed  France  under  the  cloak  of  the  Re 
public  made  them  hesitate.  > 

"  Conduct  the  prisoner  away  with  as  much  dis 
patch  as  possible,"  said  Gardin  in  a  quick,  low 
tone  to  his  companions. 

"  Lieutenant  Dessarts,  arrest  these  four  men 
instantly,"  repeated  Tournay.  There  was  a  ring 
in  his  voice  which  his  subordinates  well  under 
stood,  and  without  further  hesitation  they  laid 
hands  upon  the  Paris-  commissioners  and  pro 
ceeded  to  drag  them  from  the  tent  by  force. 

"  He  has  been  relieved  of  his  command  and 
therefore  has  no  right  to  give  you  orders.  Are 
you  slaves  that  you  obey  him  thus  ?  "  yelled  Gar- 
din,  struggling  with  the  big  corporal  who  held 
him. 

"  See  that  no  harm  is  done  them,  Lieutenant 
Dessarts,"  Tournay  called  out  as  the  men  were  led 
away.  "  Conduct  them  outside  our  lines  and  give 
orders  that  they  shall  not  be  permitted  to  return." 

Following  them  to  the  door  of  his  tent,  Tour- 
nay  coolly  watched  the  unhappy  commissioners  as 
they  were  led  away,  protesting  vehemently  against 
the  indignity  of  their  arrest  and  vowing  vengeance 
for  it. 

It  was  a  cold  winter  night,  and  the  wind  blew 
down  through  the  mountain  passes  of  the  Vosges 
with  biting  keenness.  Throwing  his  cloak  over 
hi$  shoulder  he  strolled  out  through  the  camp.  In 
spite  of  the  chilling  wind  the  soldiers  showed  the 
greatest  enthusiasm.  As  he  went  down  the  long 


THE  FOUR  COMMISSIONERS  185 

line  of  camp-fires,  he  was  recognized  and  cheered 
roundly.  Cries  of  "  We  '11  beat  them  at  Wissem- 
bourg  to-morrow,  colonel !  "  "  Landau  or  death  !  " 
greeted  him  on  all  sides. 

The  next  day  showed  that  they  had  not  uttered 
vain  boasts. 

Tournay's  command,  sweeping  through  a  nar 
row  defile  in  the  face  of  a  destructive  fire,  tore 
through  the  enemy's  centre,  and  combining  with 
Dessaix  on  the  left,  and  Pichegru  on  the  right, 
sent  Wurmser's  troops  backward  before  his  Prus 
sian  allies  could  come  to  his  assistance. 

With  the  cry  of  "  Landau  or  death !  "  the  victo 
rious  French  dashed  on  toward  the  beleaguered  city 
and  raised  the  siege  just  as  the  brave  garrison  was 
in  the  last  extremity  for  want  of  food  and  ammu 
nition. 

The  day  after  the  relief  of  Landau,  Colonel 
Tournay  entered  the  tent  of  the  commander-in- 
chief.  Hoche  rose  to  meet  him,  and  taking  him 
by  the  hand  said  warmly :  — 

"  Colonel  Tournay,  in  the  name  of  France  I 
thank  you  for  the  efficiency  and  bravery  displayed 
yesterday.  The  victory  of  Wissembourg  will  live 
in  the  annals  of  history,  and  a  full  share  of  the 
glory  belongs  to  you.  In  my  dispatches  to  the 
convention  I  have  not  omitted  to  mention  your 
noble  conduct." 

The  generous  Hoche  pressed  the  hand  of  his 
colonel  in  fraternal  feeling.  He  was  two  years 
younger  than  Tournay,  although  care  and  fatigue 
gave  him  the  looks  of  an  older  man.  At  twenty- 


186  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

four  this  remarkable  man  had  risen  to  be  preemi 
nently  the  greatest  general  in  France,  and  but  for 
his  premature  death  might  in  later  years  have  con 
tested  with  Napoleon  for  his  laurels. 

"  I  have  come,  general,  to  ask  your  permission 
to  return  to  Paris,"  said  Tournay,  much  gratified 
by  the  words  of  praise  from  the  lips  of  one  whom 
he  regarded  as  the  greatest  military  hero  of  the 


"  Again  ?  "  said  Hoche,  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  The  Committee  of  Public  Safety  have  seen  fit 
to  summon  me  to  appear  before  them,"  Tournay 
continued.  "  Some  one  has  been  found  to  impeach 
my  loyalty,  and  I  must  answer  the  charge." 

A  shade  passed  over  the  face  of  Hoche. 

"  But  I  can  ill  spare  you,  Colonel  Tournay. 
What  does  this  committee  mean  by  suspecting 
the  integrity  of  an  officer  in  whom  I  have  implicit 
faith  ?  By  Heaven,  I  will  not  permit  it !  If  they 
arrest  you,  I  '11  throw  my  commission  back  in  their 
faces  before  I  will  allow  you  to  answer  their 
charges." 

"That,  my  general,  would  but  work  injury  to 
France,  who  depends  upon  such  a  man  as  you  to 
save  her.  You  surely  will  not  desert  her  because 
a  few  overheated  brains  at  Paris  have  seen  fit  to 
listen  to  some  of  my  traducers.  I  will  go  back  to 
Paris  and  confront  my  enemies.  My  conduct  at 
Wissembourg  will  be  an  answer  to  their  charge  of 
treason."  And  the  colonel  drew  himself  up  with 
a  flash  of  pardonable  pride  in  his  dark  eyes. 

"You  may  be  right,"  replied  Hoche,  "but  I 


THE  FOUR  COMMISSIONERS  187 

would  not  trust  them.  The  reputation  which  your 
conduct  at  Wissembourg  will  create  for  you  will 
make  them  jealous,  and  they  will  whisper  it  about 
that  your  popularity  renders  you  dangerous.  I 
know  them.  They  become  jealous  of  any  man's 
reputation.  They  will  have  me  before  the  bar  of 
their  tribunal  as  soon  as  they  feel  that  they  can 
spare  me." 

And  Roche  laughed  scornfully  as  he  uttered 
the  prophecy  which  was  so  soon  to  be  fulfilled. 

"  I  have  no  fear  but  that  I  shall  be  able  to  sat 
isfy  them  as  to  loyalty,"  replied  Tournay,  smiling 
at  the  absurdity  of  the  great  and  popular  Hoche 
pleading  before  the  tribunal. 

"Well,  go  if  you  will,  but  understand,  Tour- 
nay,  that  if  you  refuse  to  obey  this  summons,  I 
will  protect  you.  They  shall  bring  no  fictitious 
charges  against  a  trusted  officer  in  my  army  with 
out  entering  into  a  contest  with  me." 

"  I  thank  you  again,  my  general,  but  I  will  not 
permit  you  to  embroil  yourself  with  the  commit 
tee  on  my  account.  You  are  too  indispensable 
to  France.  Now  I  will  take  the  leave  of  absence 
you  accord  me.  In  ten  days  you  may  look  for  my 
return." 

General  Hoche  shook  his  head  as  Tournay  left 
his  presence :  — 

"  I  fear  it  will  be  longer  than  that,  my  friend," 
he  sighed  to  himself. 

Colonel  Tournay,  accompanied  by  but  one  or 
derly,  rode  toward  Paris.  The  feelings  of  pride 
and  pleasure  which  his  general's  praise  had  raised 


188  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

in  his  heart  were  subdued  by  the  humiliation  at 
being  summoned  before  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety.  But  there  was  a  fire  in  his  eye,  and  a 
hardening  of  the  lines  near  the  mouth  which  boded 
that  he  would  not  submit  tamely  to  insult  nor  an 
unjust  sentence. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE   SWORD   OF  ROCROY 

CITIZEN  ST.  HILAIRE  had  just  come  in  from  mak 
ing  a  few  purchases  at  the  baker's  shop  in  the  Rue 
des  Mathurins.  Shortly  after  dusk  that  evening 
he  had  recalled  to  mind  that  he  was  without  the 
gill  of  cream  for  his  next  morning's  coffee,  and 
also  that  the  small  white  loaf  which  formed  a  part 
of  his  breakfast  was  at  that  moment  reposing  crisp 
and  warm  on  the  counter  of  the  baker's  shop  a 
few  doors  distant. 

As  Citizen  St.  Hilaire  was  very  particular  about 
his  coffee  and  always  liked  to  have  a  certain  choice 
loaf  that  Jules,  the  baker  in  the  Rue  des  Mathu 
rins,  made  to  perfection  late  every  afternoon,  he 
had  braved  the  wind  and  rain  of  a  stormy  January 
evening,  and  gone  out  to  procure  his  next  morn 
ing's  repast. 

Returning  to  his  small  apartment  at  the  top  of 
the  house,  he  threw  off  his  wet  cloak  and  was  on 
the  point  of  extracting  from  his  pocket  a  little  can 
of  cream,  when  a  knock  sounded  at  the  door  of 
the  chamber  which  served  him  for  sitting-room, 
dining-room,  and  library.  Putting  the  can  upon 
the  table,  he  took  up  a  lamp  and  went  to  the  door. 

A  young  woman  stood  upon  the  threshold.     She 


190  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

had  evidently  come  in  a  carriage,  for  the  costly 
clothes  she  wore  were  quite  unspotted  by  the  rain. 

"  This  is  Citizen  St.  Hilaire,"  she  said  in  a  tone 
of  conviction  as  she  stepped  into  the  room. 

St.  Hilaire  bowed  and  stepped  back  to  place  the 
lamp  upon  a  small  table  near  at  hand,  and  stood 
waiting  the  further  pleasure  of  his  visitor. 

As  he  stood  within  the  circle  of  light,  the  young 
woman  looked  from  him  to  his  modest  surround 
ings  with  marked  curiosity,  her  eyes  dwelling  upon 
each  object  in  the  room  in  turn.  It  did  not  take 
long  to  note  every  piece  of  furniture ;  the  table, 
armchair,  a  few  books,  the  violin  case  in  the  cor 
ner,  with  a  picture  or  two  and  a  pair  of  rapiers 
upon  the  wall.  When  she  had  completed  her  sur 
vey  of  the  room  her  gaze  returned  to  him  once 
more. 

He  was  plainly  dressed  in  a  suit  of  dark  brown 
color.  His  linen  was  exquisitely  neat,  and  his 
figure  was  so  elegant  that  although  his  coat  was 
far  from  new,  and  of  .no  exceptional  quality,  it 
became  him  as  well  as  if  it  were  of  the  most  costly 
material. 

"  Will  you  be  seated  ?  "  said  St.  Hilaire,  drawing 
forward  the  armchair  from  its  corner. 

The  young  woman  took  the  seat  he  offered  her. 

"  And  so  you  are  Citizen  St.  Hilaire,"  she 
repeated  as  if  the  name  interested.  "I  —  I  am 
Citizeness  La  Liberte.  I  remember  you  well,"  she 
continued  ;  "  I  saw  you  a  number  of  times,  years 
ago,  at  the  home  of  the  Marquis  de  —  But  why 
mention  his  name  ?  There  are  no  more  marquises 


THE  SWORD  OF  ROCROY  191 

in  France,  and  he  was  a  worthless  creature,"  and 
she  tossed  back  her  head  with  a  gesture  of  careless 
freedom. 

"  No,"  he  repeated,  "  there  are  no  more  mar 
quises,"  and  with  a  laugh  he  seated  himself  oppo 
site  her.  The  sharp  end  of  the  crisp  loaf  in  his 
pocket  made  him  aware  of  its  presence.  He  took 
it  out  and  put  it  in  its  place  upon  the  table  beside 
the  cream. 

"  The  Kepublic  has  caused  many  strange  changes, 
but  I  should  never  have  dreamed  of  finding  you 
here  like  this,  Citizen  St.  Hilaire,"  and  again  she 
eyed  him  wonderingly. 

"  The  Republic  has  done  a  great  deal  for  you  ?  " 
said  St.  Hilaire,  raising  his  eyebrows  inquiringly. 

"  Everything,"  replied  La  Liberte  with  empha 
sis,  while  her  eyes  and  the  jewels  on  her  bosom 
flashed  upon  him  dazzlingly.  Her  look  indicated 
that  she  thought  the  Revolution  had  not  dealt  so 
generously  by  him. 

"  It  has  done  much  for  me  too,"  said  St.  Hi 
laire. 

"  What  good  has  it  done  you  ?  "  inquired  La 
Liberte  incredulously. 

"  It  has  taught  me  wisdom,"  he  replied. 

"Oh,"  she  answered  contemptuously,  "it  has 
brought  me  pleasure.  Therefore  I  love  it.  But 
you,  Citizen  St.  Hilaire,  —  will  you  answer  me  a 
question  ?  " 

St.  Hilaire  bowed  in  acquiescence. 

"  Are  you  satisfied  with  this  Republic  ?  I  know 
it  is  dangerous  to  speak  slightingly  of  it  in  these 


192  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

days,  but  between  us,  with  only  the  walls  to  hear, 
do  you  like  it?" 

"I  am  never  satisfied  with  anything,"  replied 
St.  Hilaire  with  just  a  touch  of  weariness  in  his 
voice. 

"I  should  think  that  you  would  hate  it.  I 
should  were  I  you,"  and  La  Liberte  shook  her 
brown  curls  with  a  laugh. 

"  Notwithstanding,"  said  St.  Hilaire,  "  I  would 
not  go  back  to  the  old  regime." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you  at  all,"  exclaimed 
La  Liberte  in  despair,  with  a  puzzled  look  on  her 
brow. 

"  Why  try  ?  "  he  asked  dryly.  "  I  have  given  it 
up  myself.  Tell  me  in  what  way  I  can  serve  you  ?  " 

"I  have  come  here  to  do  you  a  service,"  she 
answered.  The  room  was  warm,  and  as  she  spoke 
she  threw  her  ermine-lined  cloak  over  the  back  of 
the  chair. 

A  slight  trace  of  surprise  showed  itself  upon 
Citizen  St.  Hilaire' s  face  as  he  looked  at  her  in 
quiringly. 

She  had  evidently  found  the  chair  too  large  to 
sit  in  comfortably,  for  she  perched  herself  upon 
its  arm  with  one  foot  on  the  floor  while  she  swung 
the  other  easily. 

"  That  is  extraordinary ! '"  he  exclaimed.  "  It 
is  a  long  time  since  any  one  has  gone  out  of  his 
way  to  do  me  a  service.  May  I  ask  why  you  have 
done  so?" 

"  Oh,  I  can  hardly  tell  you  why,"  she  replied, 
tapping  her  boot  heel  against  the  side  of  the 


THE  SWORD   OF   ROCROY  193 

chair.  It  was  a  very  dainty  foot  and  clad  in  the 
finest  chaussure  to  be  found  in  Paris.  "  You  were 
once  kind  to  a  friend  of  mine,"  she  went  on  to 
say,  slowly  —  "  and  I  rather  liked  you  — and  so  I 
have  come  to  show  you  this."  She  put  a  slip  of 
paper  into  his  hand. 

It  was  headed,  "  List  for  the  fifteenth  Pluviose." 
Then  followed  a  score  of  names.  St.  Hilaire  saw 
his  own  among  them  near  the  end. 

The  young  woman  watched  him  earnestly  while 
he  read  it.  The  careless  look  had  quite  disap 
peared  from  her  face,  and  given  place  to  one  of 
seriousness. 

"  It  is  a  list  of  names,"  said  St.  Hilaire,  turning 
the  paper  over  and  looking  at  the  reverse  side  to 
see  if  it  contained  anything  else.  "  And  my  name 
is  honored  by  being  among  them.  Where  did  it 
come  from  ?  What  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  I  picked  it  up,"  replied  La  Liberte.  "  I  saw  it 
lying  on  a  table.  I  did  not  know  the  other  names 
upon  it  and  should  never  have  touched  it  had 
I  not  seen  your  name.  And  I  resolved  that  you 
should  see  it  also,  and  be  warned  in  time.  But 
you  have  little  time  to  spare.  To-morrow  is  the 
fifteenth." 

"  Warned?"  repeated  St.  Hilaire,  "of  what?" 

"  Every  man  whose  name  is  upon  that  list  will 
be  arrested  to-morrow.  It  may  be  in  the  morn 
ing,  it  may  be  during  the  day,  it  may  be  late  at 
night.  But  it  will  surely  be  to-morrow.  Oh!  I 
have  seen  so  many  of  those  lists,  and  of  late  they 
are  longer  and  more  frequent." 


194  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Whose  handwriting  is  this  ? "  inquired  St. 
Hilaire,  looking  at  critically. 

"  I  dare  not  tell,"  said  La  Liberte  in  a  low  tone. 

"  As  long  as  you  have  revealed  so  much,  why 
not  go  a  step  further  and  make  the  information  of 
greater  value  ?  "  he  insisted  quietly. 

"  One  of  the  committee,  I  dare  not  mention  his 
name  even  here,"  and  she  looked  around  the  room 
furtively.  "  One  of  the  most  powerful,"  she  went 
on,  in  a  very  low  tone,  as  if  frightened  at  her  own 
temerity.  "  Cannot  you  guess  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  can,"  rejoined  St.  Hilaire  mus 
ingly. 

"  Now  that  you  have  had  this  warning  I  hope 
you  will  be  able  to  elude  them.  Give  me  the 
paper  again,  Citizen  St.  Hilaire,  that  I  may  re 
place  it  before  it  is  missed.  He  is  at  the  club 
now,  but  I  must  hurry  back.  Never  mind  the 
light ;  I  can  find  my  way  well  enough.  My  eyes 
are  used  to  the  dark." 

St.  Hilaire  took  up  the  lamp,  and  in  spite  of 
her  remonstrances  accompanied  her  down  the  four 
flights  of  stairs.  At  the  door  stood  a  handsome 
equipage. 

"  That  is  mine,"  she  said,  as  St.  Hilaire  escorted 
her  to  the  carriage ;  there  was  the  same  slight  touch 
of  pride  in  her  tone  that  had  crept  out  once  be 
fore.  "  This  once  belonged  to  the  Duchess  de 
Montmorenci,"  she  said.  "  It  is  rather  heavy  and 
old-fashioned,  but  will  do  very  well  until  I  can 
get  a  new  one." 

"  I  see  that  you  have  had  the   coat   of   arms 


THE  SWORD  OF  ROCROY  195 

erased,"  St.  Hilaire  remarked.  "I  suppose  your 
new  carriage  will  have  a  red  nightcap  on  the 
panel." 

"  Now  you  are  laughing  at  me,"  she  said,  tossing 
back  her  brown  curls  with  a  pout.  "  Good-night, 
marquis,"  she  added  in  a  low  voice  in  his  ear  as 
he  was  closing  the  door  of  the  carriage. 

"  Citizen  St.  Hilaire,"  he  corrected  gravely,  as 
she  drove  away.  "  You  forget  there  are  no  more 
marquises  in  France." 

After  La  Liberty's  departure  the  Citizen  St. 
Hilaire  retraced  his  steps  up  the  stairs,  humming 
quietly  to  himself.  On  reaching  the  top  landing 
he  entered  his  room  and  sitting  down  by  the  win 
dow  he  looked  out  over  the  lights  of  Paris.  For 
two  hours  he  sat  thus  buried  deep  in  thought  and 
scarcely  moving.  When  he  finally  arose  from  his 
chair  the  city  clock  had  long  struck  the  hour  of 
midnight. 

First  drawing  the  bolt  to  the  door  as  if  to  pre 
vent  intrusion  even  at  that  late  hour,  he  opened 
an  old  armoire  in  the  corner  of  the  room  and  took 
from  it  an  object  carefully  wrapped  in  a  velvet 
cover.  He  took  from  the  covering  a  sword,  with 
golden  hilt  studded  with  jewels.  The  scabbard, 
too,  was  of  pure  gold,  set  profusely  with  diamonds, 
emeralds,  and  rubies.  Unsheathing  the  weapon 
he  held  it  to  the  light.  He  held  it  carefully,  al 
most  reverently,  as  one  holds  some  sacred  relic. 
His  eye  was  animated  and  had  he  uttered  his 
thoughts  he  would  have  spoken  thus  :  — 

"This  is  the  sword  that  a  marshal  of  France 


196  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

wielded  upon  the  field  of  battle.  He  was  my  an 
cestor,  and  from  father  to  son  it  has  come  down 
to  me,  the  last  of  my  race.  It  is  as  bright  to-day 
as  when  it  flashed  from  its  sheath  at  Rocroy.  I 
have  kept  it  untarnished.  It  is  the  sole  remain 
ing  relic  of  the  greatness  of  our  name." 

Replacing  the  sword  carefully  in  its  scabbard, 
he  buckled  it  around  his  waist.  Then  taking  a 
cloak  from  the  armoire  he  enveloped  himself  in 
it,  so  as  to  completely  hide  the  jeweled  scabbard. 
This  done,  he  went  into  his  bedroom  and  drew 
from  under  his  couch  a  small  chest  from  which  he 
took  a  purse  containing  some  money.  All  these 
preparations  he  made  quietly  and  with  great  de 
liberation.  Returning  to  the  sitting-room  he  un 
bolted  and  opened  the  door.  All  was  quiet.  A 
cat,  that  frequented  the  upper  part  of  the  build 
ing,  and  made  friends  with  those  who  fed  it, 
walked  silently  in  through  the  open  door  and 
arching  her  back  rubbed  purringly  against  his 
leg.  He  went  to  the  cupboard,  and  getting  out  a 
saucer  filled  it  with  the  cream  that  was  to  have 
flavored  his  next  morning's  cup  of  coffee,  and 
placed  it  on  the  floor.  The  animal  ran  to  it 
greedily,  and  for  a  few  moments  St.  Hilaire  stood 
watching  the  little  red  tongue  curl  rapidly  out  and 
in  of  the  creature's  mouth  as  she  lapped  up  the 
unexpected  feast.  Then  giving  a  glance  about 
the  room,  but  touching  nothing  else  in  it,  he  ex 
tinguished  the  light  and  went  out  into  the  corridor, 
leaving  the  door  ajar. 

When  he  passed  out  into  the  street  he  noticed 


THE  SWORD  OF  ROCROY  197 

that  the  rain  had  ceased.  The  wind  blew  freshly 
from  the  west  and  the  night  was  cool.  Drawing 
his  cloak  closer  about  him  and  allowing  one  hand 
to  rest  upon  his  sword-hilt,  he  walked  rapidly  away, 
humming  softly  to  himself.  In  the  room  he  had 
just  left,  the  cat  licked  up  the  last  few  drops  of 
cream  in  the  saucer ;  signified  her  contentment 
by  stretching  herself,  while  she  dug  her  forepaws 
into  the  carpet  several  times  in  succession ;  then 
jumped  into  his  vacant  arm-chair  and  curled  up 
for  a  nap. 

The  Citizen  St.  Hilaire  had  always  foreseen  the 
possibility  of  just  such  an  emergency  as  now  con 
fronted  him.  He  was  quite  prepared  to  meet  it. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  river  in  the  small  and 
quiet  Rue  d'Arcis  dwelt  an  old  man.  The  house 
in  which  he  lived,  number  seven,  was  also  very 
old.  It  was  large  and  rambling.  St.  Hilaire  knew 
it  well.  As  a  child  he  had  played  in  it.  It  had 
once  belonged  to  him,  and  he  had  deeded  it  to 
an  old  servant  of  his  father  at  a  time  when  he 
regarded  old  houses  as  encumbrances  upon  his 
estates,  and  when  aged  servants  had  found  no 
place  in  his  retinue.  If  for  no  other  reason,  his 
family  pride  had  caused  him  to  make  generous 
provision  for  a  faithful  retainer,  and  now  that  his 
own  worldly  fortunes  were  reduced,  he  knew  where 
to  find  a  home  until  he  could  carry  out  his  plans 
for  leaving  the  country.  For  some  time  past  he 
had  been  forming  such  plans,  but  with  his  custom 
ary  indifference  to  danger  he  had  delayed  their 
execution  from  day  to  day. 


198  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Crossing  the  Seine  by  the  bridge  St.  Michel  and 
following  the  Quai,  St.  Hilaire  remembered  an  un 
frequented  way  to  the  house  in  the  Rue  d'Arcis. 
From  the  Quai  on  the  left  was  a  blind  alley  that 
ended  at  a  row  of  houses.  Through  one  of  these 
houses  had  been  cut  an  arched  passage  to  the 
street  beyond.  The  passageway  came  out  on  the 
other  side  almost  directly  opposite  number  seven, 
and  offered  a  tempting  short-cut. 

St.  Hilaire  walked  quietly  up  the  alley  and  had 
almost  reached  the  farther  end,  when  a  door  on  the 
opposite  side  opened  and  a  woman  came  out.  The 
lateness  of  the  hour  and  the  signs  of  timidity  which 
the  woman  showed,  caused  St.  Hilaire  to  stop  in 
the  entrance  to  the  passageway  and  look  back  to 
observe  her  actions. 

She  peered  first  down  the  street  cautiously,  as 
if  to  see  that  there  were  no  passers  on  the  Quai, 
then  up  at  the  windows  of  the  houses  opposite  to 
assure  herself  that  she  was  unobserved  from  that 
quarter.  Satisfied  as  to  both  of  these  points,  she 
closed  the  door  noiselessly,  and  hurriedly  passed 
down  the  street.  She  was,  however,  not  destined 
to  reach  the  Quai  unnoticed  by  any  other  eyes  than 
St.  Hilaire's,  for  she  had  not  gone  fifty  paces  when 
a  party  of  four  men,  talking  in  loud  voices,  crossed 
the  street  on  the  Quai.  At  sight  of  them  the  wo 
man  stopped  short  and  hesitated.  The  four  also 
stopped  and  looked  at  her.  One  of  them  called 
out  to  her.  Evidently  frightened  she  turned,  and 
crossing  the  street  hurried  back.  To  St.  Hilaire's 
surprise,  she  passed  by  the  house  from  which  she 


THE  SWORD  OF  ROCROY  199 

had  recently  come,  and  made  straight  for  the  pas 
sageway  where  he  stood.  The  four  men  gave 
chase,  one  of  them  overtaking  her  before  she  had 
reached  the  entrance.  He  placed  his  hand  upon 
her  arm,  while  she  cried  and  struggled  to  free 
herself.  The  hood  fell  over  her  shoulders,  and  in 
the  light  from  a  lantern,  hung  upon  a  projecting 
crane  from  one  of  the  houses,  St.  Hilaire  recog 
nized  Madame  d'Arlincourt. 

The  exertion  to  free  herself  from  the  man's 
grasp  had  caused  her  hair  to  fall  down  upon  her 
shoulders.  Her  blue  eyes  had  a  wild  look  like 
those  of  a  person  whose  mind  is  strained  almost  to 
madness.  She  fought  fiercely  for  her  freedom. 

A  dove  striking  its  pinions  against  a  lion's  paw 
could  have  been  able  to  effect  its  release  as  quickly 
as  the  poor  little  countess  from  the  huge  hand  that 
held  her. 

St.  Hilaire  was  as  gallant  a  gentleman  as  ever 
drew  a  sword,  or  raised  a  lady's  fingers  to  his  lips. 
On  the  instant,  he  forgot  his  own  danger  and  the 
cause  of  his  flight,  and  stepped  forward  into  the 
circle  of  light. 

"  How  now,  citizen  ?  What  have  you  to  do 
with  this  young  citizeness  ?"  he  cried  out  in  dis 
tinct  tones. 

In  his  surprise  at  St.  Hilaire's  sudden  appear 
ance,  the  man  loosened  his  grasp  upon  Madame 
d'Arlincourt's  shoulder.  With  a  cry  she  flew  in 
stantly  to  St.  Hilaire's  side  for  protection. 

"  Defend  me,  sir,  oh,  save  me  from  them ! "  she 
cried,  catching  hold  of  his  arm. 


200  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  I  will  not  let  them  harm  a  hair  of  your  head," 
he  whispered  in  reply ;  "  calm  yourself,  my  dear 
madame." 

The  quiet  way  in  which  he  spoke  seemed  to 
bring  back  some  part  of  her  self-control.  She 
ceased  crying  and  stood  by  his  side  like  a  statue, 
although  he  could  feel  by  the  pressure  on  his  arm 
that  she  still  trembled. 

•'  Well,  citizen,  what  would  you  with  this  citi- 
zeness  ?  "  repeated  St.  Hilaire  in  a  loud  voice,  as 
the  other  men  came  up  behind  their  comrade. 

"  Her  actions  are  suspicious ;  she  may  be  an 
aristocrat.  We  want  to  bring  her  to  the  Section 
for  examination,"  answered  one  of  them. 

"  Let  her  come  to  the  Section,"  echoed  another. 

The  fellow  who  had  first  laid  hands  upon  the 
countess  now  recovered  speech.  "  If  she  's  an 
aristocrat  here  's  at  her  ;  I  've  killed  many  an  aris 
tocrat  in  my  day."  As  he  spoke  he  drew  himself 
together  and  raising  his  musket  leveled  it  at  the 
woman's  head. 

The  countess  tightened  her  grasp  on  St.  Hilaire's 
arm  with  both  her  hands,  rendering  him  powerless 
for  the  moment. 

St.  Hilaire  pushed  her  gently  behind  him,  and 
looking  straight  into  his  opponent's  face,  said 
firmly  :  — 

"  She  shall  certainly  go  to  the  Section,  citizen, 
but  first  put  down  your  weapon  and  let  me  speak. 
I  am  Citizen  St.  Hilaire  —  were  we  in  the  Fau 
bourg  St.  Michel  almost  anybody  would  be  able  to 
tell  you  who  I  am." 


THE  SWORD  OF  ROCROY  201 

"  I  know  you,  citizen  !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the 
men  in  the  rear,  "  and  you  should  know  me  also. 
My  name  is  Gonflou !  "  and  the  fellow  grinned 
good-naturedly  over  the  shoulder  of  his  companion, 
as  if  he  recognized  an  old  friend. 

"  Ah  yes,  good  citizen  Gonflou ! "  repeated  St. 
Hilaire.  "  Restrain  the  ardor  of  this  patriot  who 
handles  his  musket  so  carelessly,  while  I  question 
the  little  citizeness." 

"  Lower  that  musket,  Haillon,  or  I  '11  beat  your 
head  with  this,"  said  Gonflou,  rattling  his  heavy 
sabre  threateningly. 

Haillon  muttered  an  oath  and  lowered  the  muz 
zle  of  his  weapon. 

"  We  can't  be  all  night  at  this,"  he  growled. 
"  Better  let  me  take  a  shot  at  the  woman ;  she  's 
an  aristocrat,  that 's  flat." 

St.  Hilaire  bent  over  the  countess. 

"  Release  my  arm  !  "  She  obeyed  like  a  child. 
Stepping  back  with  her  a  couple  of  paces,  he  con 
tinued  :  — 

"  Who  is  in  the  house  you  have  just  come  out 
of?  Answer  me  truthfully  and  fearlessly." 

She  looked  up  into  his  face,  and  he  saw  that 
she  now  recognized  him  as  she  answered  in  a 
whisper,  "  My  husband.  He  is  ill.  I  could  only 
venture  out  after  midnight  to  summon  a  physician 
who  is  known  to  us." 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  Haillon,  impatiently  grind 
ing  the  butt  of  his  gun  on  the  pavement,  "how 
long  does  it  take  to  find  out  about  an  aristo 
crat?" 


202  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  She  was  going  to  summon  a  doctor  to  attend 
a  sick  father,"  said  St.  Hilaire  without  looking  at 
Haillon. 

"  Bah,"  growled  the  latter. 

"  Right  behind  us,"  continued  St.  Hilaire,  in  a 
very  low  voice,  and  looking  into  the  countess' 
face  earnestly  to  enforce  his  words,  "  is  a  passage 
way  that  leads  to  the  Rue  d'Arcis." 

Madame  d'Arlincourt  nodded.    She  understood. 

"  When  I  next  begin  to  talk  to  these  men,  you 
must  go  through  that  passage  to  the  house  oppo 
site.  It  is  number  seven.  You  will  not  be  able 
to  see  the  number,  but  it  is  directly  opposite ;  you 
cannot  mistake  it.  Knock  seven  times  in  quick 
succession.  Some  one  will  inquire  from  within, 
4  Who  knocks  ? '  You  must  reply  4  From  Ra 
phael.'  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

44  Yes,"  said  the  countess. 

44  You  are  taking  up  too  much  of  our  time,  citi 
zen,"  interrupted  Haillon,  "  let  me  take  a  hand  at 
questioning." 

44  Be  silent,  Haillon ;  "  said  St.  Hilaire  in  a  tone 
of  quick  authority. 

44  The  door  will  be  opened  without  further  ques 
tion.  Once  inside  you  must  tell  them  that  you 
were  sent  by  Raphael,  and  that  they  are  to  keep 
you  until  it  is  safe  for  you  to  return  to  your  own 
domicile.  Now  remember !  —  as  soon  as  I  enter 
into  conversation  with  these  men." 

"I  can  remember,"  replied  the  countess,  "but 
what  are  you  going  to  do  after  that  ?  Will  they 
not  harm  you?" 


THE  SWORD  OF  ROCROY  203 

St.  Hilaire  laughed  lightly.  "  Oh,  I  will  take 
care  of  that.  I  expect  to  follow  you  in  a  few 
minutes."  Then  he  turned  and  advanced  a  few 
steps  in  order  to  cover  her  retreat  more  fully. 

"The  citizeness  has  convinced  me  that  she  is 
nothing  but  a  poor  sewing-girl  in  great  distress  at 
the  illness  of  her  father.  I  have  told  her  that 
she  might  continue  on  her  errand  for  a  doctor  un 
molested.  You  are  over-zealous,  good  Haillon,  to 
see  an  aristocrat  in  every  shadow." 

"  She  has  disappeared,"  cried  Gonflou. 

Haillon  raised  his  musket  with  finger  on  the 
trigger.  St.  Hilaire's  hand  struck  upward  just 
as  the  detonation  echoed  through  the  quiet  street. 
Then  the  smoke,  clearing  away,  revealed  Haillon 
upon  the  pavement,  while  the  sword  in  St.  Hilaire's 
hand  was  red  with  blood.  • 

"  He  has  killed  a  citizen,"  bellowed  Gonflou. 
"  Comrades,  cut  him  down.  Avenge  the  death  of 
a  patriot." 

Three  sabres  were  uplifted  against  the  citizen 
St.  Hilaire.  He  drew  back  a  pace  or  two  and 
with  a  smile  upon  his  lips  warded  off  the  blows 
aimed  at  his  head  and  breast.  Then  he  poised 
himself  and  set  his  face  firmly.  The  sword  which 
had  first  won  renown  on  the  field  of  Rocroy  now 
flashed  in  the  light  of  the  flickering  lamp  of  the 
passage  d'Arcis,  and  another  of  his  assailants  fell 
to  the  ground. 

The  wrist  that  wielded  it  was  just  as  supple  and 
the  white  fingers  that  held  the  jeweled  hilt  just 
as  strong  as  when,  in  the  days  gone  by,  the  Mar- 


204  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

quis  de  St.  Hilaire  was  known  as  the  best  swords 
man  in  his  regiment. 

His  two  remaining  adversaries  hesitated  in  their 
attack  for  a  moment.  Then  Gonflou,  bleeding 
from  two  deep  wounds  and  bellowing  like  an  angry 
bull,  sprang  at  him  again  with  his  heavy  sabre 
lifted  in  both  hands. 

One  of  the  two  fallen  men  had  half  raised  him 
self  and  dragged  over  to  where  Haillon  lay.  He 
drew  a  pistol  from  the  dead  man's  belt  and,  lean 
ing  forward,  fired  under  Gonflou's  arm.  The  blow 
from  Gonflou's  sabre  was  parried,  then  Jean  Ra 
phael  de  St.  Hilaire  fell  forward  on  his  face  and 
lay  without  moving  upon  the  pavement,  while  the 
sword  of  Rocroy  fell  ringing  to  the  ground. 

One  of  the  attacking  party  was  still  unhurt. 
He  raised  his  weapon  over  the  prostrate  body  at 
his  feet.  Gonflou  pushed  him  aside  roughly. 
"  That 's  enough,  citizen.  We  '11  take  him  to  the 
Section  without  cutting  him  up."  The  man  who 
had  fired  the  shot  had  since  busied  himself  with 
tying  up  his  own  wounded  arm.  He  now  bent 
over  St.  Hilaire.  "  He  still  breathes,"  he  said. 
"  Had  we  not  better  finish  him  ?  " 

"  No,  my  little  Jacques  Gardin,"  was  Gonflou's 
answer,  who,  the  moment  the  fight  was  over,  be 
came  as  good-natured  as  before ;  "  let  us  take  him 
to  the  Section." 

"But  he  has  killed  Haillon,"  persisted  young 
Jacques,  who  had  reloaded  the  pistol  and  was 
handling  it  lovingly. 

"  Pah,"  replied  Gonflou,  with  a  laugh,  "  Haillon 


THE  SWORD  OF  ROCROY  205 

should  have  been  careful  when  playing  with  edged 
tools.  Come,  citizens,  take  hold  and  we  '11  carry 
them  both  to  the  Section.  You  may  take  your 
choice,  Citizen  Ferrand,  the  corpse  or  the  dying 
man.  I  '11  carry  either  of  them,  and  little  Jacques 
shall  run  ahead.  Forward,  march,  comrades." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

SOMETHING   HIDDEN 

"  COLONEL  EGBERT  TOURNAY,  you  are  sum 
moned  before  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety !  " 
Silence  followed  this  call.  The  clerk  repeated  his 
summons.  Again  silence. 

"  I  move,"  said  one  of  the  members,  "  that  the 
examination  proceed.  The  citizen  colonel  was 
summoned  and  has  not  appeared.  If  he  is  not 
here  to  defend  himself,  that  is  his  affair,  not  ours." 

"  Citizen  Bernard  Gardin,"  said  the  president, 
"  repeat  to  the  committee  the  result  of  your  inter 
view  with  the  Citizen  Tournay." 

Gardin  rose.  "  The  said  citizen,  Colonel  Tour- 
nay,  refused  to  recognize  the  mandate  of  the  Com 
mittee  of  Public  Safety.  The  commissioners  sent 
to  apprehend  his  person  were  treated  with  marked 
disrespect  and  expelled  from  the  camp  with  in 
sult."  Gardin  spoke  the  words  with  bitter  em 
phasis. 

Without  even  looking  at  him,  Danton  inter 
rupted  the  witness.  "  The  citizen  colonel  pleaded 
that  an  impending  battle  made  it  necessary  for 
him  to  remain  in  the  field,  did  he  not  ?  " 

"  He  did  make  some  such  excuse,"  sneered  Gar- 
din. 


SOMETHING  HIDDEN  207 

"  Instead  of  refusing  to  obey  the  summons,  the 
citizen  colonel  stated  that,  the  battle  once  decided, 
he  would  hasten  to  Paris,  did  he  not  ?  "  continued 
Danton,  lifting  his  voice  and  turning  his  eyes  full 
upon  Gardin. 

"He  did  say  he  would  come  at  some  future 
time,"  admitted  Gardin,  "  but  he  refused  to  obey 
the  summons  which  called  upon  him  to  return  with 
the  commissioners." 

"  And  thereby  insulted  the  committee,"  said  Cou- 
thon. 

"  If  the  committee  recalls  our  officers  from  the 
field  upon  the  eve  of  battle  they  must  expect  our 
armies  to  be  defeated,"  Danton  remarked  dryly. 
"  Colonel  Tournay  refused  to  obey  the  letter  of 
the  summons  and  remained  at  his  post  of  duty. 
The  French  armies  have  just  won  a  glorious  vic 
tory  at  Wissembourg  in  which  the  accused  distin 
guished  himself  by  great  bravery  and  devotion  to 
the  Republic.  I  move  that  when  he  does  appear 
he  receive  the  thanks  of  this  committee  in  the 
name  of  France." 

"  Do  you  advocate  rewarding  him  for  his  dis 
obedience  and  his  indifference  to  our  authority  ?  " 
inquired  President  Robespierre. 

"  I  believe  that  victories  are  more  important  to 
France  at  •  this  juncture,  citizen  president,  than 
any  slight  disregard  of  the  letter  of  the  commit 
tee's  authority." 

Robespierre  shut  his  thin  lips  together  and 
turned  to  St.  Just. 

44  Let  us  proceed  with  the  inquiry,"  he  said  after 


208  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

a  moment's  consultation.  "  Clerk,  call  the  other 
witnesses." 

"Are  you  not  going  to  give  Colonel  Tournay 
twelve  hours  longer  in  which  to  appear  in  person  ?  " 
persisted  Danton. 

"Of  what  use  would  that  be?"  asked  Couthon. 
"  He  will  not  come  within  twelve  months." 

"  Let  the  inquiry  proceed,"  commanded  the  pre 
sident  impatiently. 

As  if  to  show  his  indifference  to  the  proceed 
ings,  Danton  rose  from  his  seat,  yawned,  and  then 
strolled  to  the  window.  As  he  did  so,  a  sudden 
shout  rose  from  a  crowd  gathered  below.  Dan- 
ton  bent  forward  and  looked  out  into  the  street  to 
ascertain  the  cause. 

The  door  swung  open  and  Colonel  Tournay  en 
tered  the  room.  He  was  followed  by  many  of 
the  crowd.  The  news  of  the  great  victory  of  the 
French  armies  on  the  frontier  had  just  reached 
Paris  and  stirred  it  with  enthusiasm.  The  people 
in  the  streets  had  caught  sight  of  his  uniform  and 
surmising  that  he  had  just  come  from  the  scene  of 
war  pressed  about  him  closely,  crying  for  details 
of  the  battle.  Some  had  recognized  him  person 
ally  and  called  out  his  name.  The  great  crowd 
had  taken  it  up,  and  cheered  wildly  for  one  of  the 
heroes  of  Wissembourg  and  Landau. 

There  was  a  flush  of  excitement  on  his  cheek 
and  a  sparkle  in  his  eye  as  he  stepped  forward. 

"  I  understand  that  I  am  called  before  this 
committee  to  answer  certain  charges,"  he  said  in 
a  clear  ringing  voice.  "  What  is  the  accusation  ? 
I  am  here  to  answer  it." 


SOMETHING  HIDDEN  209 

The  crowd  outside  the  door  took  up  the  shout. 

"  Yes,  of  what  is  the  citizen  colonel  accused  ? 
Who  accuses  the  hero  of  Landau  ?  " 

Robespierre  changed  color  and  hesitated.  Dan- 
ton  eyed  the  president  with  a  sneer  upon  his  lips, 
which  he  made  no  attempt  to  conceal.  The  breach 
between  the  two  men  had  widened  to  such  an  ex 
tent  that  it  had  become  a  matter  of  common  gos 
sip. 

"  You  are  accused  of  winning  a  battle,"  said 
Danton  with  a  laugh,  —  "a  rare  event  in  these 
days." 

Robespierre  turned  and  whispered  to  St.  Just. 
The  latter  answered  Tournay. 

"  There  are  three  charges  against  you,"  he  said. 
"  First,  you  are  accused  of  having  been  concerned 
in  the  rescue  of  a  certain  Citizeness  de  Rochefort 
from  prison  boat  number  four  on  the  River  Loire. 
Secondly,  of  escorting  the  said  Citizeness  de  Roche- 
fort  across  France  under  a  false  name.  Thirdly, 
of  having  insulted  the  authority  of  four  commis 
sioners  sent  by  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  to 
arrest  you.  These  accusations  have  been  preferred 
against  you  before  this  committee,  which  feels 
called  upon  to  investigate  them  carefully.  If  they 
decide  that  there  is  sufficient  evidence  to  warrant 
it,  they  will  bring  the  case  before  the  Revolutionary 
Tribunal.  Now  that  you  have  heard  the  charges, 
I  ask  you  :  Do  you  wish  to  employ  counsel  ?  " 

"  With  the  permission  of  the  committee  I  leave 
my  case  in  the  hands  of  a  member  of  the  conven 
tion,  Citizen  Danton,"  said  Tournay. 


210  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Call  the  first  witness,"  said  St.  Just. 

"Citizen  Leboeuf  to  the  stand,"  cried  the  clerk. 

The  bulky  form  of  Leboeuf  lumbered  forward. 
His  face  was  red  and  his  eyes  heavy.  His  testi 
mony  was  given  hesitatingly,  as  if  he  were  endeav 
oring  to  conceal  some  of  the  facts.  He  deposed 
that  the  accused,  Tournay,  had  assisted  in  rescu 
ing  the  Citizeness  de  Rochefort  from  the  prison 
boat  number  four  on  the  River  Loire  on  the  fifth 
Nivose.  Cross-examined  by  Danton,  he  admitted 
reluctantly  that  he  could  not  swear  to  the  identity 
of  the  accused,  but  felt  certain  it  was  he.  It  was 
a  man  of  just  his  height  and  general  appearance ; 
he  had  good  reason  to  know  that  the  citizen  colonel 
was  much  interested  in  the  fate  of  the  Citizeness 
de  Rochefort. 

Danton  dismissed  him  with  a  contemptuous  wave 
of  the  hand,  and  Lebo3uf  retired,  outwardly  dis 
comfited  and  purple  of  face,  yet  with  a  certain  in 
ward  sense  of  relief  that  the  examination  was  over. 

"  The  citizen  colonel  admits  that  he  escorted  a 
woman  to  the  frontier,"  Danton  went  on,  "  but  it 
was  under  a  passport  issued  by  the  Committee 
of  Public  Safety.  It  has  not  been  proven  that 
this  woman  was  the  escaped  prisoner,  Citizeness 
de  Rochefort.  He  also  admits  having  refused  to 
accompany  the  commissioners  to  Paris,  and  having 
expelled  them  from  his  camp.  For  this  act  of  dis 
courtesy  to  the  committee  he  offers  an  apology,  and 
pleads  in  extenuation  that  it  was  on  the  eve  of  a 
battle  in  which  his  presence  was  necessary  to  our 


SOMETHING  HIDDEN  211 

Robespierre  turned  to  St.  Just  and  Couthon. 
They  held  an  animated  discussion,  during  which 
both  the  latter  were  seen  to  remonstrate.  Finally 
at  a  signal  from  the  president,  the  entire  commit 
tee  withdrew  for  consultation. 

Tournay  glanced  about  the  room.  He  knew  that 
he  had  the  interest  and  sympathy  of  most  who 
were  present,  and  from  the  manner  in  which  the 
inquiry  had  been  conducted,  he  felt  little  anxiety 
as  to  the  result. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait  before  the  members  of 
the  committee  entered  the  room  and  took  their 
places. 

The  president  touched  the  bell.  St.  Just  rose, 
and  speaking  with  apparent  reluctance  said  :  — 

"  The  committee  do  not  find  sufficient  evidence 
to  warrant  the  trial  of  Colonel  Robert  Tournay 
upon  the  charge  of  treason  to  the  Republic." 

A  cheer  rang  through  the  room,  which  was  re 
echoed  in  the  corridor  and  out  into  the  street  be 
yond. 

The  president  touched  his  bell  sharply.  St. 
Just  continued  :  — 

"  The  committee  relieves  Colonel  Tournay  from 
his  command  for  the  present.  He  will  await  here 
in  Paris  the  orders  of  the  committee  in  regard  to 
returning  to  the  army.  The  inquiry  is  now  ended, 
and  the  meeting  adjourns." 

Tournay  walked  out  of  the  court  accompanied 
by  Danton  and  through  the  street  to  his  friend's 
lodgings,  followed  by  an  admiring  crowd  cheering 
the  hero  of  Landau. 


212  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Two  incidents  took  place  in  quick  succession 
during  the  short  walk  to  Danton's  house. 

These  incidents  had  no  relation  to  each  other, 
yet  they  both  gave  Tournay  the  uncomfortable 
sensation  that  besets  a  man  when  he  is  contending 
with  unknown  or  secret  forces. 

In  passing  by  the  Jacobin  Club  he  saw  a  man 
enter  at  the  door.  He  could  not  see  the  face,  but 
the  figure  and  movements  were  so  much  like  those 
of  de  Lacheville  that  had  he  not  felt  sure  that  it 
would  be  equivalent  to  the  marquis's  death-sen 
tence  for  him  to  be  found  in  Paris,  he  would  have 
been  certain  it  was  his  enemy.  The  idea  was  so 
unlikely,  however,  that  he  dismissed  it  from  his 
mind. 

As  they  passed  down  the  Rue  des  Cordelieres 
and  reached  the  door  of  Danton's  house,  a  man, 
issuing  from  the  crowd,  brushed  closely  against 
Tournay's  shoulder.  In  doing  so  the  colonel  felt 
a  letter  slipped  into  his  hand.  "  From  a  friend," 
sounded  in  his  ear.  "  Examine  it  when  alone." 
Tournay  mechanically  put  the  paper  in  his  pocket, 
and  followed  Danton  into  the  house,  upon  the 
giant  uttering  the  laconic  invitation  :  — 

"  Come  in." 

"You  have  not  said  a  word  about  the  prompt 
dismissal  of  the  charges  against  me,"  said  Tour- 
nay,  as  they  entered  the  dingy  room  which  served 
Danton  for  office  as  well  as  salon. 

The  giant  threw  off  his  coat  and  filled  his  pipe. 
Taking  a  seat  he  began  to  smoke  rapidly. 

"  There  is  more  behind  it,"  he  said. 


SOMETHING  HIDDEN  213 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Did  you  not  notice  that  no  attempt  was  made 
to  convict  you  ?  " 

"  I  did,  but  I  attributed  it  to  lack  of  evidence 
on  their  part." 

"  Lack  of  evidence  !  "  repeated  Danton.  "  They 
are  capable  of  manufacturing  that  when  needed." 

"  I  confess  I  thought  it  possible  that  the  popu 
larity  of  the  army  with  the  people  had  something 
to  do  with  it." 

Danton  smiled  pityingly. 

"  I  tell  you  that  there  is  something  behind  it  all. 
I  cannot  account  for  Robespierre's  sudden  change. 
It  was  he  who  directed  your  acquittal.  There  is 
something  behind  all  this.  He  works  in  the  dark, 
and  secretly.  Tournay,  I  mistrust  that  man  as 
much  as  I  hate  him,"  and  he  began  to  smoke  vio 
lently. 

"  Why  do  you  not  crush  him,  Jacques  ?  "  asked 
Tournay  coolly. 

"  Ay,  that 's  the  question  I  often  ask  myself," 
said  Danton,  lifting  up  his  mighty  arm  and  looking 
at  it,  smiling  grimly  the  while  as  if  he  were  think 
ing  of  Robespierre's,  sallow  face  and  puny  body. 

"  If  you  don't  crush  him,  he  will  sting  you  to 
death,"  added  Tournay  impressively,  as  he  rose  to 
go. 

Danton  doubled  up  his  arm  once  more  till  the 
muscles  swelled  into  great  knots  upon  it.  "Ha, 
ha,"  he  laughed,  " I  don't  fear  that,  Tournay;  he's 
too  much  of  a  coward  to  lay  hands  upon  me." 

"  Do  you  never  fear  for  your  own  safety  when 


214  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

you  see  so  many  falling  beneath  the  hand  of  this 
man  who  rules  France  ?  "  asked  Tour  nay. 

Danton  started  at  the  words  "  rules  France." 

"  Yes,  he  does  rule  France.  He  rules  the  tri 
bunal.  He  rules  me,  curse  him  !  But  as  for  fear 
ing  him,  Jacques  Danton  fears  nothing  in  this 
world  or  the  next." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Tournay  shortly.  "  But  re 
member,  Jacques,  you,  of  all  men,  can  crush  the 
tyrant  if  you  will." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Danton,  placing  his  huge 
hand  on  Tournay's  shoulder.  "Be  assured  that 
Robespierre  is  holding  something  back.  There  is 
something  behind  the  mask.  Be  prepared." 

Tournay  laughed.  "  I  cannot,  perhaps,  say  un 
reservedly  that  I  fear  nothing  in  this  world  or  the 
next,  Jacques,  but  be  assured,  I  do  not  fear  him." 
And  he  walked  away  with  head  erect  and  military 
swing,  toward  the  Rue  des  Mathurins.  Danton 
resumed  his  pipe,  muttering  to  himself  like  some 
volcano  rumbling  inwardly, — 

"  Jacques,  you  can  crush  him  if  you  will ! " 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  PRESIDENT'S  NOTE 

As  Tournay  entered  the  doorway  of  15  Rue  des 
Mathurins  an  excited  little  man  brushed  quickly 
past  him,  muttered  an  apology,  and  ran  hurriedly 
up  the  street.  Under  his  arm  he  carried  a  hand 
some  coat. 

"  1 11  wager  that 's  some  thief  who  has  been  ply 
ing  his  trade  upstairs,"  thought  Tournay.  "It 
was  clumsy  on  my  part  to  let  him  get  by  me.  But 
I  'm  too  tired  to  run  after  him.  He  can  wear  his 
stolen  finery  for  all  me."  And  he  climbed  up  the 
stairs  to  the  fourth  landing. 

"  Welcome,  my  general !  "  cried  Gaillard,  rising 
up  and  throwing  to  one  side  the  theatrical  costume 
into  which  he  was  neatly  fitting  a  patch. 

"  Not  general  yet,  my  little  Gaillard,"  was  the 
reply,  as  the  two  friends  embraced  warmly. 

"How?  Not  a  general  yet?"  exclaimed  the 
actor.  "  Why,  all  the  city  is  ringing  with  news  of 
the  victory  of  Wissembourg  and  the  hero  of  Lan 
dau!" 

"That  may  be,  my  friend,  but  I  have  not  re 
ceived  my  promotion,  and,  what  is  more,  I  am  not 
expecting  it.  I  shall  be  quite  satisfied  to  have 
the  convention  send  me  to  the  front  again,  where 
there  is  work  to  be  done." 


216  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Bah  !  Is  the  convention  mad  that  it  overlooks 
our  bravest  and  best  officer  ?  "  exclaimed  Gaillard 
in  a  tone  of  disgust. 

"  Wait  until  you  have  heard  what  I  have  to  tell 
you,  and  then  say  whether  I  shall  not  be  fortunate 
if  permitted  to  return  to  my  command,  even  if  it 
be  but  one  regiment." 

"  Danton  is  right,"  said  Gaillard,  when  the  colo 
nel  had  finished  his  account  of  the  day's  proceed 
ings.  "  Undoubtedly  there  is  something  behind  all 
this ;  what  it  is,  the  future  will  show." 

"  In  the  mean  time  let  us  have  something  to  eat," 
said  Tournay ;  "  I  am  as  hungry  as  a  wolf.  Is  there 
any  food  in  the  house  ?  " 

"An  unusual  supply,"  was  Gaillard's  answer. 
"  We  will  dine  in  your  honor,  colonel,  and  though 
the  convention  has  not  seen  fit  to  adorn  your  brow 
with  laurels,  I  will  make  some  amends  by  pledging 
your  health  in  a  glass  of  wine  as  good  as  any  that 
can  be  found  in  Paris  to-day." 

"  I  shall  be  pleased  to  eat  a  dinner  in  any  one's 
honor,  for  I  have  eaten  nothing  since  daylight,  and 
it  is  now  four  o'clock." 

"  Sit  down  for  one  moment  then,  while  I  take  a 
few  last  stitches  in  my  work  here.  I  had  expected 
to  wear  a  new  costume  in  the  piece  to-night,  4  Le 
Mariage  de  Figaro,'  but  the  tailor  brought  a  gar 
ment  that  fitted  abominably,  and  to  the  insult  of  a 
grotesque  fit  he  added  the  injury  of  an  exorbitant 
bill,  so  I  refused  the  coat  and  dismissed  him  with 
an  admonition." 

"  I  must  have  encountered  your  tailor  as  I  came 


THE  PRESIDENT'S  NOTE  217 

up,"  said  Tournay.  "He  was  very  pressed  for 
time,  and  seemed  to  have  taken  your  admonition 
much  to  heart." 

"Not  exactly  to  heart,"  replied  Gaillard,  his 
mouth  widening  with  a  grin,  "for  I  emphasized 
my  remarks  rather  forcibly  with  my  shoe.  I 
kicked  him  down  one  flight  of  stairs,  and  he  ran 
down  the  others." 

"  I  am  afraid  your  dramatic  nature  causes  you 
to  be  rather  precipitate  at  times,  Gaillard,"  re 
marked  Colonel  Tournay,  smiling. 

"  On  this  occasion  all  the  precipitation  was  on 
the  part  of  the  tailor,"  replied  Gaillard.  "  Well, 
this  old  costume  is  mended ;  it  will  have  to  serve 
me  for  a  few  nights.  Now  for  dinner.  Take  your 
place  at  the  table.  I  shall  sit  at  the  head,  and  you, 
as  the  guest,  shall  occupy  the  place  at  my  right 
hand.  You  will  excuse  me  for  one  moment,  will 
you  not,  while  I  serve  the  repast  ?  "  and  before 
Tournay  could  answer  Gaillard  had  left  the  room. 

Tournay  seated  himself  at  the  table,  and  took 
from  his  pocket  the  letter  which  had  been  placed 
in  his  hands  on  the  street.  It  was  addressed  in  a 
large  hand  to  "  Citizen  Colonel  Robert  Tournay." 
The  writing  was  that  of  a  person  who  evidently 
wielded  the  pen  but  occasionally,  and  he  could  not 
be  sure  whether  it  came  from  a  man  or  woman. 
He  broke  the  seal  and  read  :  — 

CITIZEN  COLONEL,  —  Your  attitude  toward 
some  of  the  members  of  the  Convention  has  made 
you  a  number  of  enemies.  Do  not  take  the  dis- 


218  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

missal  of  the  charges  brought  against  you  before 
the  committee  as  an  evidence  that  these  enemies 
are  defeated ;  they  have  merely  resolved  to  change 
their  tactics  during  your  present  popularity.  Had 
you  been  defeated  at  Wissembourg  and  Landau, 
you  would  not  now  be  at  liberty.  You  may  be 
sure  these  men  have  your  ultimate  downfall  in 
view.  Distrust  them  all. 

Tournay  ran  his  eyes  hastily  over  a  list  of  a 
dozen  names,  among  which  were  Couthon,  St.  Just, 
and  Collot-d'Herbois. 

"Here  it  is,  hot  and  succulent  from  the  kitchen 
of  Citizeness  Ribot,"  called  out  Gaillard,  appear 
ing  from  an  inner  room  with  a  steaming  dish, 
which  he  placed  before  him.  "  What  have  you 
got  there  ?  "  he  asked,  blowing  on  his  fingers  to 
cool  them. 

Tournay  handed  him  the  paper.  "  All  of  them 
either  friends  or  tools  of  Robespierre,"  was  Gail- 
lard's  comment.  "  How  did  this  come  into  your 
hands?" 

Tournay  told  him.  His  friend  stepped  to  the 
fireplace. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  inquired  Tour- 
nay. 

"  I  make  it  a  point  never  to  keep  anything  with 
writing  on  it.  It  may  be  a  tradition  of  my  pro 
fession,  for  on  the  stage  trouble  always  lurks  in 
written  documents.  We  must  burn  this." 

"  Do  not  be  so  hasty,  Gaillard ;  you  may  burn  it 
after  I  have  committed  those  names  to  memory." 


THE  PRESIDENT'S  NOTE  219 

"  Then  I  will  put  it  here  on  the  chimney-piece 
for  the  present.  Don't  carry  it  about  you.  It  is 
a  dangerous  paper  in  times  like  these." 

"  Very  well,  I  will  be  guided  by  your  counsels. 
And  just  at  this  moment  you  advise  dining,  do  you 
not  ?"  and  Tournay  turned  to  the  dish  on  the  table. 
"  It  has  a  very  agreeable  odor.  What  is  it  ?  " 

"The  menu,  to-day,  consists  of  three  courses; 
bread,  salt,  and,"  —  here  the  actor  removed  the 
cover  of  the  dish  with  a  flourish  —  "  rabbit  ra 
gout." 

"  Will  you  assure  me  that  the  rabbit  did  not 
mew  at  the  prospect  of  being  turned  into  a  ra 
gout?"  inquired  Tournay,  holding  out  his  plate 
while  Gaillard  heaped  it  with  the  stew. 

"  You  will  have  to  ask  the  cook,  my  little  war- 
god.  When  I  delivered  to  her  the  material  in  its 
natural  state  it  consisted  of  two  little  gray  tailless 
animals  with  long  ears  ;  but  to  exonerate  her,  I 
call  your  attention  to  the  house-cat  at  this  moment 
poking  her  nose  in  at  the  door.  And  let  me  say 
further,  that  whether  it  be  cat  or  rabbit  you  seem 
to  be  able  to  dispose  of  a  goodly  quantity  of  it." 

"  My  dear  Gaillard,  I  am  a  soldier  and  can  eat 
anything,"  was  Tournay's  rejoinder. 

"  But  cast  not  your  eyes  longingly  upon  the 
poor  animal  who  has  come  in  attracted  by  the 
smell  of  dinner ;  she  is  my  especial  pet.  Let  me 
divert  your  attention  from  her  by  pouring  you  a 
glass  of  wine." 

"  Gaillard,  your  dinner  is  most  excellent ;  your 
pet  shall  be  safe." 


220  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Gaillard  filled  two  glasses  with  wine. 

"Your  very  good  health,  Colonel  Tournay,  of 
the  Army  of  the  Moselle." 

"  Yours,  my  dear  friend  Gaillard." 

The  two  friends  rose  and  touched  glasses  over 
the  little  table. 

"  That  wine  is  wonderful,"  said  Tournay  as  he 
put  down  the  glass.  "  What  do  you  mean  by 
drinking  such  nectar?  Do  you  live  so  near  the 
top  of  the  house  in  order  that  you  may  spend  your 
savings  on  your  wine  cellar  ?  " 

"  That  bottle  is  one  of  six  presented  to  me  by 
our  neighbor,  Citizen  St.  Hilaire.  He  has  been 
living  modestly  in  the  attic  overhead,  but  he  evi 
dently  had  a  knowledge  of  good  wine." 

"Ah,  Citizen  St.  Hilaire,"  repeated  Tournay. 
"  He  is  a  man  who  should  well  know  good  wine ; 
but  you  said  he  has  been  living  overhead.  Is  he 
not  there  now  ?  " 

"  Three  days  ago  he  disappeared.  He  left  a 
note  for  the  Citizeness  Bibot  with  the  money  due 
for  rent,  and  stated  that  he  should  not  return. 
His  action  was  explained  next  morning  when  a 
gendarme  from  the  section  made  his  appearance 
and  inquired  for  Citizen  St.  Hilaire.  Since  then 
his  chamber  is  watched  night  and  day.  I  doubt  if 
he  returns." 

"  He  is  quite  capable  of  keeping  out  of  danger 
or  getting  into  it,  as  the  fancy  suits  him,  if  he  is 
the  man  I  once  knew,"  remarked  Tournay. 

Gaillard  filled  the  glasses  again.  "  Let  us  not 
talk  about  him  in  too  loud  a  tone,"  he  said,  "  but 
quietly  pledge  him  in  his  own  Burgundy." 


THE  PRESIDENT'S  NOTE  221 

Tournay  took  the  proffered  glass.  The  gentle 
gurgle  down  two  throats  told  that  St.  Hilaire's 
health  was  drunk  fervently  if  silently. 

"  With  your  permission  I  will  propose  a  toast," 
said  Tournay,  as  Gaillard  emptied  the  last  of  the 
bottle  into  their  glasses.  The  actor  nodded. 

"  To  the  French  Republic,"  exclaimed  Tournay. 
"  May  victory  still  perch  upon  her  banners." 

"  To  the  Republic,"  echoed  Gaillard. 

Again  the  glasses  clinked  over  the  small  wooden 
table. 

"  As  long  as  we  have  victory,"  continued  Tour- 
nay,  "  what  care  we  whether  we  be  colonels,  gen 
erals,  or  soldiers  of  the  line  ?  Our  victories  are 
the  nation's.  All  are  sharers  in  its  glory." 

"  Long  live  the  Republic ! "  they  cried  in  con 
cert,  and  set  down  their  empty  wineglasses. 

"  Now  I  must  fly  to  the  theatre,"  exclaimed 
Gaillard ;  "  you  have  made  me  late  with  your  re 
publics  "  — 

"And  I  must  to  bed,"  said  Tournay.  "This 
morning's  dawn  found  me  in  the  saddle  in  order 
to  reach  the  convention  at  an  early  hour." 

"  You  have  made  a  mistake,  citizen  sergeant," 
exclaimed  Gaillard  suddenly,  as  an  officer  of  gen 
darmerie  appeared  at  the  open  door.  "  The  floor 
above  is  where  you  want  to  go." 

"  I  want  to  see  the  Citizen  Colonel  Tournay," 
was  the  reply.  . 

"  I  am  he,"  said  Tournay. 

The  sergeant  awkwardly  gave  the  military  sa 
lute.  "  Here  is  a  letter  for  you,  citizen  colonel." 


222  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Tournay  took  the  paper,  and  the  sergeant  turned 
toward  the  door. 

"  Is  there  any  answer  required  ? "  asked  Tour- 
nay,  as  he  broke  the  seal. 

"None  through  me.  Good-night,  citizen  colo 
nel."  And  the  heavy  jack-boots  were  heard  de 
scending  the  stairs. 

Gaillard  began  hurriedly  to  make  a  bundle  of 
his  theatrical  costume,  while  Tournay  broke  the 
seal  and  glanced  over  the  contents  of  the  letter. 

"Read  this,"  he  said,  passing  the  paper  to 
Gaillard,  who  stood  by  his  side,  bundle  under 
arm. 

Gaillard  read :  — 

To  CITIZEN  COLONEL  ROBERT  TOURNAY,  Rue 

des  Mathurins  15. 

Will  the  patriotic  citizen  colonel  call  upon  the 
humble  and  none  the  less  patriotic  citizen,  Maxi 
milian  Robespierre,  this  evening  at  seven,  to  dis 
cuss  affairs  pertaining  to  the  good  of  the  nation  ? 
If  the  Citizen  Tournay  can  come,  no  answer  need 
be  sent. 

(Signed)  MAXIMILIAN  ROBESPIERRE. 

17th  Pluviose,  Year  II.  of  the  French 
Republic,  one  and  indivisible. 

"  He  evidently  takes  it  for  granted  that  I  will 
come,  for  his  messenger  waited  for  no  answer," 
added  Tournay. 

"It's  the  sequel  of  this  afternoon's  inquiry," 
said  Gaillard,  as  he  returned  it,  "  and  too  exqui- 


THE  PRESIDENT'S  NOTE  223 

sitely  polite  for  a  plain  citizen.  What  are  you 
going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  see  him,  of  course,"  replied 
Tournay.  "  It  is  the  only  way  to  find  out  what  he 
wants." 

Gaillard  nodded.  "  That 's  true ;  I  almost  feel 
like  going  with  you  and  remaining  outside  the 
door,"  and  Gaillard  placed  his  package  on  the 
table. 

"  That  is  unnecessary,  my  friend ;  I  never  felt 
more  secure  in  my  life.  Go  to  your  performance 
of  Figaro  and  on  your  return  you  will  find  me 
here  in  this  easy-chair,  smoking  one  of  your  pipes." 

Gaillard  took  up  his  bundle  again.  "  Very 
well,  but  mind,  if  I  do  not  find  you  seated  in  that 
arm-chair  smoking  a  pipe  I  shall  know  you  are 
in  trouble." 

Tournay  laughed.  "  You  will  find  me  there, 
never  fear.  And  now  let  us  go  out  together." 

"  I  am  abominably  late  !  "  exclaimed  Gaillard, 
as  they  parted  at  the  corner.  "  The  director  will 
have  the  pleasure  of  collecting  a  fine  from  my 
weekly  salary.  Good-night  —  embrace  me,  my 
little  war  god !  Au  revoir,"  and  the  actor  hurried 
down  the  street,  whistling  cheerfully. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BENEATH  THE  MASK 

AN  atmosphere  of  secrecy  seemed  to  pervade 
Robespierre's  house,  and  Tournay,  following  the 
servant  along  the  dimly  lighted  corridor,  passed 
his  hand  over  his  eyes,  as  one  brushes  away  the 
fine  cobwebs  that  come  across  the  face  in  going 
through  the  woods. 

The  rustle  of  a  gown  fell  upon  his  ear  as  he 
entered  the  salon,  and  at  the  further  end  of  the 
apartment  he  saw  a  woman  who  had  evidently 
risen  at  his  entrance,  and  now  stood  irresolute, 
with  one  hand  on  the  latch  of  a  door  leading  into 
an  adjoining  room,  as  if  she  had  intended  making 
her  exit  unobserved  by  him. 

She  stood  in  such  a  manner  that  the  shadow 
of  the  half-open  door  fell  across  her  face,  but  he 
could  see  that  she  was  a  young  woman  of  small 
stature  and  well  proportioned  figure.  At  the 
sound  of  his  voice  she  allowed  her  hand  to  fall 
from  the  latch,  then  lifting  her  head  erect,  walked 
toward  him. 

"La  Liberte!"  ejaculated  Tournay.  He  had 
not  seen  her  since  the  day  he  had  left  her  dancing 
on  the  cannon-truck,  winecup  in  hand ;  but  she 
still  kept  her  girlish  look,  and  except  in  her  dress 
she  had  not  greatly  changed. 


BENEATH  THE  MASK  225 

She  still  showed  a  partiality  for  bright  colors, 
by  her  gown  of  deep  crimson.  But  the  material 
was  of  velvet  instead  of  the  simple  woolen  stuff  she 
used  to  wear.  Her  hair,  which  had  once  curled 
about  her  forehead  and  been  tossed  about  by  the 
wind,  was  now  coiled  upon  her  head,  from  which 
a  few  locks,  as  if  rebellious  at  confinement,  had 
fallen  on  her  neck  and  shoulders.  She  wore  no 
thing  on  her  head  but  a  tricolored  knot  of  ribbon, 
the  color  of  the  Republic. 

"How  does  it  happen  that  we  meet  here?" 
asked  Tournay  after  a  moment,  during  which  he 
had  gazed  at  her  in  surprise. 

"Never  mind  about  me  for  the  present,"  she 
said,  looking  up  in  his  face,  half  defiantly,  half 
admiringly;  for  as  he  stood  before  her,  framed 
in  the  open  door,  he  was  a  striking  picture,  with 
his  handsome,  bronzed  face  and  brilliant  uni 
form. 

"  Let  us  speak  of  your  affairs,"  she  continued. 
"  I  am  told  the  committee  has  ordered  you  to  await 
its  permission  before  returning  to  the  army." 

"How  did  you  know  that?"  he  demanded  in 
surprise. 

"  Oh,  I  know  many  things  that  are  going  on  in 
this  strange  world,"  and  she  gave  the  old  toss  of 
her  head.  "  Now  do  not  talk,  but  listen.  You 
must  return  to  the  army.  A  soldier  like  you  is  at 
a  disadvantage  among  these  intriguers.  They  will 
suspect  you  for  the  simple  reason  that  they  sus 
pect  every  one.  You,  who  are  accustomed  to  fight 
openly,  will  fall  a  victim  to  their  wiles." 


226  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  My  enemies  may  find  that  I  can  strike  back," 
said  Tournay  quietly. 

La  Liberte  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  Did  you  receive  a  letter  this  afternoon  ?  "  she 
asked  quickly.  \ 

"  Did  you  write  that  letter  ?  " 

"  I  never  write  letters,"  she  answered  signifi 
cantly;  "but  if  you  received  one  and  read  it, 
you  know  the  names  of  some  of  your  enemies. 
What  can  you  do  with  such  an  array  against  you  ? 
I  repeat,  you  are  no  match  for  them.  You  must 
go  back  to  your  command." 

"  That  is  what  I  desire  above  all  else,"  answered 
Tournay. 

"You  can  go  to-morrow,  if  you  wish,"  said  the 
demoiselle. 

"How?" 

"  By  listening  to  what  the  president  of  the  com 
mittee  has  to  say  to  you,  and  agreeing  to  it.  Yield 
to  his  demands,  whatever  they  may  be,  and  you 
will  be  permitted  to  set  out  to-morrow." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  meet  the  committee  more 
than  halfway.  I  will  agree  to  everything  they 
wish,  if  I  can  do  so  consistently." 

"  Consistently !  "  she  repeated.  "  I  see  you  will 
be  obstinate."  Then  she  stopped  and  looked  full 
in  his  face.  "  I  might  know  that  you  would  after 
all  only  act  according  to  your  convictions,  and  that 
any  advice  would  be  thrown  away  on  you.  Well, 
I  must  say  I  like  you  better  that  way,  and  were 
I  a  man  I  should  do  the  same." 

She  placed  one  hand  upon  her  hip  where  hung 


BENEATH  THE  MASK  227 

a  small  poniard  suspended  by  a  silver  chain  about 
her  waist,  and  went  on  earnestly :  "  But  listen  to 
this  word  of  advice.  You,  who  have  been  so  long 
absent  from  Paris,  do  not  realize  Robespierre's 
power.  It  is  sometimes  the  part  of  a  brave  man 
to  yield.  Give  way  to  him  as  much  as  your  co/fc- 
sistency  will  permit.  Now  adieu."  She  turned 
away ;  then  facing  him  suddenly  with  an  impul 
sive  gesture  she  came  toward  him. 

"  Compatriot ! "  she  said  with  an  unwonted 
tremble  in  her  voice,  "  will  you  take  my  hand  ?  " 
He  took  the  hand  extended  to  him. 

"  I  do  not  forget,  Marianne,  that  you  and  I  both 
came  from  La  Thierry.  If  ever  you  are  in  need 
of  a  friend,  you  can  rely  upon  me." 

For  one  moment  the  brown  head  was  bent  over 
his  hand,  and  La  Liberte  showed  an  emotion  which 
none  of  those  who  thought  they  knew  her  would 
have  believed  possible.  Then  throwing  back  her 
head  she  disappeared  through  the  door  beyond, 
as  Robespierre  entered  from  the  corridor. 

Much  absorbed  in  his  meditations,  Robespierre 
did  not  appear  to  notice  that  any  one  had  just 
quitted  the  room.  He  walked  very  slowly  as  if 
to  impress  Tournay  with  his  greatness,  and  did 
not  speak  for  some  moments.  He  no  longer  af 
fected  the  great  simplicity  of  dress  which  had  char 
acterized  him  at  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution, 
and  the  coat  of  blue  velvet,  waistcoat  of  white 
silk,  and  buff  breeches  which  he  wore  were  quite 
in  keeping  with  his  fine  linen  shirt  and  the  laces 
of  his  ruffles. 


228  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

It  was  Tournay  who  first  broke  the  silence. 

"  Citizen  president,  you  see  I  have  been  prompt 
to  comply  with  your  request ;  I  am  here  in  answer 
to  your  summons." 

Robespierre  raised  his  head,  and  started  from 
his  soliloquy. 

"  Ah  yes,  you  are  the  citizen  colonel  who  ap 
peared  to-day  before  the  committee  to  answer  cer 
tain  charges." 

"  I  am,"  replied  Tournay. 

"  Citizen  colonel,"  said  Robespierre,  "  I  will  be 
perfectly  frank  with  you.  The  Committee  of  Pub 
lic  Safety,  whose  dearest  wish,  whose  only  thought, 
is  the  welfare  of  the  Republic,"  here  the  president's 
small  eyes  blinked  in  rapid  succession,  "  is  not 
quite  satisfied  with  the  condition  of  affairs  in  the 
army." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,  citizen  president,  and 
in  behalf  of  the  army,  I  would  call  the  committee's 
attention  to  the  recent  battles  in  which  the  soldiers 
of  France  have  certainly  borne  themselves  with 
great  bravery.  I  speak  now  as  one  of  their  officers 
who  is  justly  proud  of  them." 

"  It  is  not  the  conduct  of  the  soldiers  of  which 
the  committee  finds  cause  of  complaint,"  replied 
Robespierre,  "  but  of  their  generals." 

"  It  is  not  for  me  to  criticise  my  superior  offi 
cers,"  said  Tournay.  "  I  leave  that  to  the  nation." 

"  The  committee  has  good  reason  to  criticise  the 
attitude  of  certain  of  its  generals,  who  seem  to 
have  forgotten  that  they  are  merely  citizens.  They 
have  been  chosen  to  serve  the  Republic  only  for  a 


BENEATH  THE  MASK  229 

time  in  a  more  exalted  position  than  their  fellow 
citizens,  yet  they  have  become  swollen  with  pride, 
and  take  to  themselves  the  credit  of  the  victories 
won  by  their  armies.  Their  dispatches  to  the  con 
vention  are  couched  in  arrogant  and  sometimes 
insolent  language." 

Tournay  bowed.  "  Again  I  must  refrain  from 
expressing  my  opinion  on  such  a  matter,"  he  said. 

"  Ever  since  the  treason  of  General  Dumou- 
riez,"  Eobespierre  went  on,  "  the  committee  has 
had  its  suspicions  as  to  the  conduct  of  several  of 
its  generals.  Hoche  is  one." 

Xournay  started. 

"  What  you  are  pleased  to  impart  to  me,  citizen 
president,  sounds  strange.  Permit  me  to  state 
that  I  feel  sure  the  committee's  suspicions  are 
unfounded." 

Kobespierre  looked  at  him  closely.  "Does 
General  Hoche  take  you  into  his  entire  confi 
dence  ?  "  he  inquired  quickly ;  his  weak  eyes 
blinking  more  rapidly  than  ever. 

"No,  I  am  merely  a  colonel  in  his  army. 
Though  I  have  good  reason  to  believe  he  places 
confidence  in  me,  he  naturally  does  not  inform  me 
of  his  plans  before  they  are  matured." 

"Citizen  colonel,  the  committee  also  places 
great  confidence  in  you,  and  for  that  reason  it 
wishes  you  to  return  at  once  to  the  army." 

"  I  obey  its  orders  with  the  greatest  pleasure  in 
the  world,"  said  Tournay. 

"The  committee  also  desires,"  Eobespierre 
continued,  "  that  you  send  to  its  secretary  each 


230  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

week  a  minute  report  of  everything  that  passes 
under  your  notice,  particularly  as  regards  the  ac 
tions  of  Citizen  General  Hoche.  Do  not  regard 
anything  as  too  trifling  to  be  included  in  your  re- 
report  ;  the  committee  will  pass  upon  its  impor 
tance." 

Tournay  had  listened  in  silence.  His  teeth 
ground  together  in  the  rage  he  struggled  to  sup 
press.  He  felt  that  if  he  made  a  movement  it 
would  be  to  strike  the  president  to  the  floor. 

"  I  must  decline  the  commission  with  which  the 
committee  honors  me.  I  am  not  fitted  for  it,"  he 
replied. 

"  The  committee  has  chosen  you  as  eminently 
fitted  for  the  work.  The  confidence  that  General 
Hoche  places  in  you  makes  you  the  best  agent  the 
committee  could  employ." 

•"  Then  tell  your  committee,  citizen  president, 
that  it  must  find  some  less  fitting  agent  to  do  its 
dirty  work.  My  business  is  to  fight  the  enemies 
of  France,  not  to  spy  upon  its  patriots." 

Robespierre's  sallow  face  became  a  shade  more 
yellow.  "  Have  a  care  how  you  speak  of  the 
committee.  In  the  service  of  the  Eepublic  all 
employment  is  sacred  and  honorable." 

"  I  prefer  my  own  interpretation  of  the  words," 
answered  Tournay,  with  a  look  of  scorn. 

"  And  yet  you  yourself  have  somewhat  strange 
ideas  of  what  is  honorable,"  remarked  Robespierre 
sneeringly. 

"  I  do  not  understand  what  you  mean,"  replied 
Tournay. 


BENEATH  THE  MASK  231 

Eobespierre  stepped  to  the  wall  and  pulled  the 
bell-rope.  "  Perhaps  when  it  is  made  clear  to  you, 
your  mind  may  change." 

The  colonel  made  no  reply,  but  the  next  mo 
ment  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise  as  the 
Marquis  de  Lacheville  entered  the  room.  Robes 
pierre  turned  toward  Tournay  with  the  shadow  of 
a  smile  hovering  on  his  thin  lips. 

"  You  know  this  citizen  ? "  he  asked  in  his 
harsh  voice. 

Tournay  looked  at  the  marquis  curiously,  won 
dering  why  he  had  jeopardized  his  own  safety  by 
returning  to  Paris.  The  look  of  hatred  which  the 
nobleman  shot  at  him  served  as  an  explanation. 

"  I  know  him  as  a  former  nobleman,  an  emigre, 
who  is  proscribed  by  the  Republic ;  I  wonder  that 
he  puts  his  life  in  danger  by  returning  to  the  land 
he  fled  from." 

The  marquis  made  an  uneasy  gesture,  and  was 
about  to  speak  when  Robespierre  said :  — 

"  He  has  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the 
Republic." 

Tournay  laughed  outright  at  this.  "  And  do 
you  trust  his  oath  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  And  for  the  service  he  now  renders  the  na 
tion,  his  emigration  and  the  fact  of  his  having 
been  an  aristocrat  are  to  be  condoned."  As  he 
spoke,  a  grim  smile  hovered  about  Robespierre's 
lips.  It  faded  away  instantly,  leaving  his  face  as 
mirthless  and  forbidding  as  before. 

"  Shall  we  ask  the  Citizen  Lacheville  to  tell  us 
when  he  last  saw  you  ?  "  he  went  on  sternly. 


232  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  It  is  unnecessary.  We  met  last  at  Falzen- 
berg,"  said  Tournay,  eyeing  him  with  disdain. 

"  Where  you  were  on  terms  of  intimacy  with 
Prussian  officers,"  said  de  Lacheville.  "  I  will 
not  dwell  upon  the  fact  of  your  having  assisted  an 
aristocrat  to  escape  from  prison ;  but  I  will  testify 
to  your  having  come  in  disguise  to  the  enemies  of 
France  and  entered  into  a  secret  understanding 
with  them.  I  was  serving  those  same  enemies  at 
the  time,  I  will  admit,"  and  the  marquis  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  "  but  as  the  Citizen  Kobespierre 
has  said,  I  have  repented  of  it,  and  have  come 
here  to  make  atonement  by  faithful  devotion  to 
the  nation.  One  of  the  greatest  of  my  pleasures 
is  to  help  unmask  a  hypocrite." 

Tournay  addressed  Kobespierre. 

"  Do  you  believe  this  man's  story  ?  " 

"  You  have  already  admitted  having  gone  over 
the  frontier,"  was  the  suave  rejoinder. 

"  I  did  go,  yes." 

"  Will  you  deny  having  been  closeted  alone 
with  General  von  Waldenmeer  ?  " 

"No,  but"  - 

"  Do  you  suppose  any  tribunal  in  the  land 
would  hold  you  guiltless  upon  such  testimony  and 
such  admissions  ?  " 

"Permit  me  to  ask  you  two  questions,"  said 
Tournay. 

Robespierre  acquiesced. 

"  Admitting  that  this  —  citizen's  accusation  is 
true,  why  did  I  return  to  Wissembourg  and  do  my 
best  to  defeat  the  enemy  with  whom  I  am  accused 
by  him  of  being  on  friendly  terms  ?  " 


BENEATH  THE  MASK  233 

"There  are  hundreds  of  similar  precedents  — 
Dumouriez's,  for  example." 

"  Admitting,  then,  that  I  have  already  been  false 
to  one  trust,  how  is  it  that  you  are  prepared  to 
trust  me  now  to  play  the  spy  for  your  commit 
tee  ?  "  continued  Tournay,  with  contempt  ringing 
in  his  voice. 

Again  the  peculiar  smile  flitted  across  Robes 
pierre's  pale  features. 

"  All  men  are  to  be  trusted  as  far  as  their  self- 
interest  leads  them,"  he  answered.  "  None  are  to 
be  trusted  implicitly.  You  will  be  watched  closely 
and  will  doubtless  prove  faithful.  It  will  be  to 
your  decided  advantage  to  attend  to  the  commit 
tee's  business  efficiently.  Your  little  interview 
with  the  Prussian  general,  from  which  nothing  has 
resulted,  may  be  forgotten  for  the  time." 

Tournay's  anger  during  the  interview  had  sev 
eral  times  risen  to  white  heat.  Not  even  his  sense 
of  danger  enabled  him  longer  to  repress  it. 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  would  have  no 
thing  to  do  with  the  commission  of  your  commit 
tee  !  "  he  cried  hotly.  "  And  as  for  this  man's 
accusations,  let  him  make  them  in  court  and  I  will 
answer  him.  Let  him  repeat  them  in  the  streets 
and  I  will  thrust  the  lies  back  into  his  throat  and 
choke  him  with  them."  As  he  spoke  he  advanced 
toward  de  Lacheville  who  paled  and  retreated  a 
step  or  two.  "  If  any  man  accuses  me  of  disloy 
alty  to  the  Republic,"  continued  Tournay,  turning 
and  addressing  Robespierre,  "  unless  he  takes  re 
venge  behind  the  bar  of  a  tribunal  he  shall  answer 


234  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

to  me  personally.  I  will  defend  my  honor  with 
my  own  hand." 

Robespierre  turned  pale  and  took  a  step  or  two 
in  the  direction  of  the  bell-rope. 

"  You  may  have  an  opportunity  to  answer  the 
charges  before  the  tribunal,"  he  said  coldly. 

"  Why  did  you  not  bring  them  in  to-day's  in 
quiry  ?  "  demanded  Tournay. 

"  I  do  not  announce  my  reasons  nor  divulge  my 
plans,"  was  the  reply.  "It  is  enough  to  know 
that  I  had  need  of  you.  Neither  am  I  in  the 
habit  of  having  my  will  opposed.  You  would  do 
best  to  yield  before  it  is  too  late." 

"  Kobespierre,"  cried  Tournay,  the  blood  mount 
ing  to  his  forehead,  "  you  have  played  the  tyrant 
too  long !  You  are  not  '  in  the  habit  of  having 
your  will  opposed  ?  '  I  have  not  learned  to  bend 
and  truckle  to  your  will,  doing  your  bidding  like 
a  dog ;  and,  by  Heaven !  I  will  not  now.  Bring 
your  charges  against  me  before  your  tribunal, 
packed  as  it  is  with  your  creatures,  and  I  will  an 
swer  them,  but  my  answer  shall  be  addressed  to 
the  Nation.  My  appeal  will  be  to  the  People.  I 
will  denounce  you  for  what  you  are,  a  tyrant. 
And  a  coward  —  too  "  —  he  continued,  as  Robes 
pierre,  with  ashen  lips,  rang  the  bell  violently. 
"  You  shall  be  known  for  what  you  are,  and  when 
you  are  once  known  the  people  will  cease  to  fear 
you." 

He  strode  toward  the  committee's  president, 
who,  with  trembling  knees,  stood  tugging  at  the 
bell-rope.  De  Lacheville  had  long  since  fled  from 


BENEATH  THE  MASK  235 

the  room  ;  and  Robespierre,  pulling  his  courage 
together  with  an  effort,  lifted  his  hand  and  pointed 
a  trembling  finger  at  Tournay. 

"Stop  where  you  are  !  "  he  shrieked.  "Come 
a  step  nearer  me  at  your  peril !  " 

"  I  am  not  going  to  do  you  any  injury,"  was 
Tournay's  reply  in  a  tone  of  contempt ;  "  I  despise 
you  too  much  to  do  you  personal  violence ;  I  leave 
you  to  your  fears,  citizen  president." 

There  was  a  sound  of  heavy  footsteps  in  the 
corridor,  and  Tournay  moved  toward  the  door  to 
be  confronted  by  a  file  of  soldiers. 

"  Henriot,  you  drunken  snail,"  cried  Robes 
pierre,  "  why  did  you  not  answer  my  summons  ? 
Arrest  this  man." 

Tournay  turned  a  look  upon  Robespierre  which 
made  the  latter  quail  notwithstanding  the  guard 
that  surrounded  him. 

"  You  had  this  all  arranged,"  said  the  colonel 
quietly. 

"  I  was  prepared,"  replied  Robespierre  grimly. 

Tournay  turned  away  with  contempt.  "  Dicta 
tor,  your  time  will  be  short,"  he  murmured. 

"  Come,  citizen  colonel,"  said  the  Commandant 
Henriot,  "  I  must  trouble  you  for  your  sword." 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  take  me  ?  "  asked 
Tournay  as  he  delivered  up  his  weapon. 

Henriot  glanced  at  his  chief  as  if  for  instruc 
tions. 

"  To  the  Luxembourg,"  was  the  order.  Then, 
without  looking  at  Tournay,  Robespierre  left  the 
room. 


236  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  May  I  send  word  to  a  friend  at  my  lodgings  ?  " 
Tournay  asked  of  Henriot. 

"  No,"  was  the  short  rejoinder,  "  you  must  come 
with  me  on  the  instant." 

In  the  corridor  stood  de  Lacheville.  He  smiled 
triumphantly  as  he  saw  Tournay  pass  out  between 
the  file  of  soldiers. 

"  De  Lacheville,"  said  Tournay  scornfully,  "  you 
have  played  the  part  of  a  fool  as  well  as  a  coward. 
A  few  days  and  you  also  will  be  in  prison." 

His  guards  hurried  him  on,  and  he  could  not 
hear  de  Lacheville's  answer. 

At  the  doorway  that  led  into  the  street  stood 
La  Liberte. 

"  Out  of  the  way,  citizeness  ! "  growled  Henriot. 

"  Out  of  the  way  yourself,  Citizen  Henriot," 
was  the  woman's  reply,  and  she  pushed  through 
the  soldiers  until  she  stood  at  Tournay's  elbow. 

"  Come,  citizeness,  none  of  that ;  you  cannot 
speak  to  the  prisoner,"  growled  Henriot  a  second 
time. 

"  I  was  afraid  of  this,"  she  whispered  in  Tour- 
nay's  ear. 

"  Will  you  take  a  message  for  me  ?  "  he  asked 
in  a  quick  whisper. 

"  Yes." 

"  Go  to  Gaillard,  15  Rue  des  Mathurins,  wait 
until  he  comes.  Tell  him  I  am  arrested.  That  is 
all." 

With  a  nod  of  intelligence,  La  Liberte  left  his 
side  and  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

PIERKE   AND   JEAN 

As  Gaillard  stepped  out  from  the  theatre  into  a 
dark  side  street  a  hand  fell  upon  his  right  shoulder. 
He  looked  around  and  saw  a  tall  gendarme  stand 
ing  by  his  side.  The  prospect  did  not  please  him, 
so  he  turned  to  the  left  and  saw  another  gendarme 
standing  there.  This  one  was  short,  and  stout  with 
a  smile  on  his  red  face.  Then  Gaillard  stopped. 

"  Well,  citizens  of  the  police,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I 
don't  need  any  escort.  I  can  find  my  way  home 
alone." 

"  Is  your  name  Gaillard  ?  "  asked  one. 

"  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  so,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  Actor  ?  "  demanded  the  other. 

"  Ah,  there  I  am  not  so  certain,"  he  answered. 

"  How  ?   You  do  not  know  your  own  vocation  ?  " 

44  My  friends  say  I  am  an  actor,  and  my  ene 
mies  dispute  it.  What  is  your  opinion  ?  " 

44 1  can  say  you  are  an  actor,  for  I  have  seen  you 
act,"  said  the  stout  gendarme.  "  And  a  very  good 
actor  you  were.  You  made  me  laugh  heartily." 

44  Then  I  shall  count  you  among  my  friends  !  " 
exclaimed  Gaillard.  44And  between  friends  now, 
what  is  it  that  you  want  of  me  ?  " 


238  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  We  are  going  to  take  you  to  the  Luxembourg." 

"What  for?" 

"  I  will  read  you  the  warrant,"  said  the  tall  gen 
darme.  "  Come  under  the  light  of  the  lantern 
yonder." 

Gaillard  accompanied  the  two  police  officers  to 
the  other  side  of  the  street. 

One  of  them  took  a  large  paper  from  his 
breast-pocket :  — 

"Warrant  of  arrest  for  the  Citizen  Gaillard, 
actor  of  the  theatre  of  the  Republic.  Cause : 
Friend  of  the  Suspect  Tournay,  and,  therefore,  to 
be  apprehended." 

Gaillard  repressed  the  start  that  the  sight  of  his 
friend's  name  gave  him.  " 4  The  Suspect  Tour- 
nay.'  My  colonel  has  been  arrested,"  he  said  to 
himself.  Then  heaving  a  deep  sigh  he  exclaimed 
aloud  in  a  pathetic  tone  of  voice :  — 

"  It  is  very  sad  to  think  I  should  be  arrested 
just  as  I  was  going  to  have  such  a  good  part  in 
the  new  piece  at  the  theatre." 

"  Was  it  a  funny  one  ? "  inquired  the  short 
gendarme. 

"  Funny !  why  if  you  should  hear  it,  you  'd  laugh 
those  big  brass  buttons  off  your  coat." 

"  It 's  a  shame  you  can't  play  it,"  was  the  sym 
pathetic  rejoinder. 

"  I  '11  tell  you*what  you  can  do,"  said  Gaillard. 
"  Go  with  me  to  my  house,  15  Rue  des  Mathurins, 
and  let  me  fetch  the  part  so  that  I  can  study  it 
while  in  prison ;  then,  if  I  should  be  released  soon 
I  shall  be  prepared  to  play  the  part." 


PIERRE  AND  JEAN  239 

"It's  against  our  orders,"  said  the  tall  gen 
darme.  "  We  must  take  you  at  once  to  the  Lux 
embourg." 

"  It 's  very  near  here,"  persisted  Gaillard,  "  and 
I  will  read  one  or  two  of  the  funniest  speeches 
while  we  are  there." 

"  It  will  not  take  us  more  than  fifteen  minutes," 
interposed  the  stout  gendarme,  looking  at  his  mate. 

"  And  when  I  am  released,"  said  Gaillard  per 
suasively,  "  and  play  the  part,  I  '11  send  you  each 
an  admission." 

"  Well,"  said  the  tall  gendarme,  "  we  '11  go." 

"  You  see,"  explained  Gaillard  as  they  walked 
off  in  the  direction  of  the  Rue  des  Mathurins,  "  my 
arrest  is  a  mistake,  that 's  clear.  Whoever  heard 
of  an  actor  being  mixed  up  in  politics  !  " 

"That's  so,"  remarked  the  short  gendarme. 

"  Yes,"  admitted  the  long  one,  "  I  have  arrested 
many  a  suspect,  and  you  're  the  first  actor.  But 
I  have  my  duty  to  perform,  and  if  the  warrant 
calls  for  an  actor,  an  actor  has  to  come." 

"  Of  course,"  agreed  Gaillard,  "  you  are  a  man 
of  high  principle,  as  any  one  can  see." 

Gaillard  knew  that  as  soon  as  he  was  arrested 
his  rooms  would  be  searched  for  any  evidence  of 
a  suspicious  nature.  In  all  the  house  there  was 
only  one  document  which  could  possibly  compro 
mise  either  himself  or  Tournay,  and  that  was  the 
letter  his  friend  had  received  that  same  afternoon, 
and  which  was  now  lying  upon  the  chimney-piece. 

"  Here  we  are  at  No.  15  ;  I  live  on  the  fourth 
floor,"  he  said,  as  they  came  to  the  door. 


240  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Whew ! "  exclaimed  the  stout  gendarme. 
"  You  '11  have  to  give  us  half  a  dozen  of  the  best 
jokes  if  we  go  way  up  there." 

"  You  shall  have  as  many  as  you  can  stand," 
answered  Gaillard.  "  Now,  citizen  officers,  mind 
the  angle  in  the  wall,  that 's  it.  It 's  not  a  hard 
climb  when  you  're  used  to  it." 

"  Whew !  "  exclaimed  the  stout  man  as  they 
entered  Gaillard's  apartment,  "  I  could  not  climb 
that  every  day."  He  sank  down  in  a  chair  and 
mopped  the  perspiration  from  his  brow. 

"  I  wish  I  was  sure  of  climbing  it  every  day  of 
my  life,"  said  Gaillard.  "  It 's  thirsty  work,  how 
ever,  so  let  us  have  something  to  refresh  ourselves 
with  ; "  and  he  took  out  from  the  closet  a  bottle  of 
the  choice  Burgundy  and  three  glasses. 

"  Here 's  to  the  gendarmerie,"  he  said  as  he 
filled  the  glasses. 

A  moment  later  two  pairs  of  lips  smacked 
approvingly  in  concert. 

"  That 's  a  vintage  for  you,"  said  the  short  gen 
darme  approvingly. 

"  I  never  drank  but  one  glass  of  better  wine 
than  this  in  my  life,"  said  the  tall  gendarme  medi 
tatively. 

"  When  was  that  ?  "  asked  Gaillard  as  he  filled 
the  glasses  again. 

"  That  was  when  the  Count  de  Beaujeu's  house 
was  sacked,  and  the  citizens  threw  all  the  contents 
of  his  wine  cellar  into  the  street." 

"  You  did  not  drink  a  glass  that  time,"  remarked 
the  stout  gendarme,  "  you  had  a  hogshead." 


PIERRE  AND  JEAN  241 

The  tall  man  scowled. 

"  Well,  there  's  plenty  of  this,"  said  Gaillard  ; 
"  have  another  glass  ?  " 

"  We  will,"  said  both  of  the  gendarmes.  "  Let 
us  have  a  few  of  the  funny  lines  of  your  new  part, 
citizen  actor,"  said  the  stout  gendarme  swallow 
ing  his  third  glass  of  Burgundy. 

"  Willingly !  "  exclaimed  Gaillard.  He  turned 
toward  the  chimney-piece  and  took  from  it  the 
manuscript  of  his  part.  Close  beside  it  lay  the 
letter.  His  fingers  itched  to  take  it,  but  the  eyes 
of  the  police  officers  were  upon  him  so  closely  that 
he  dared  not  touch  it. 

"  Let  us  fill  our  glasses  again  before  I  begin," 
said  the  actor,  producing  another  bottle  from  the 
closet. 

"  How  many  bottles  of  that  wine  have  you  ?  " 
inquired  the  tall  gendarme. 

"Two  more  besides  this,"  answered  Gaillard, 
drawing  the  cork. 

"  We  might  as  well  drink  them  all,  now  that  we 
are  here,"  said  the  officer  solemnly. 

"  It  would  be  a  pity  to  leave  any  of  it,"  Gail 
lard  acquiesced. 

The  short  gendarme  nodded  his  approval. 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  hogshead  of  it,"  thought  Gail 
lard.  "  I  'd  put  you  both  in  bed  and  leave  you." 

After  filling  the  glasses  once  again,  Gaillard 
took  up  the  lines  and  began  to  act  out  his  part. 
If  he  had  been  playing  before  a  large  and  enthusi 
astic  audience,  he  could  not  have  done  it  more 
effectively. 


242  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

The  stout  gendarme  was  soon  in  such  a  state  of 
laughter  that  the  tears  ran  down  his  red  cheeks. 
His  merriment  continued  to  increase  to  such  an 
extent  as  to  alarm  his  companion. 

"  He  '11  die  of  apoplexy  some  day,  if  he  is  so 
immoderate  in  his  raptures,"  said  the  tall  man, 
shaking  his  head  sadly. 

The  fat  gendarme  was  now  coughing  violently. 
Gaillard  stopped  to  slap  him  on  the  back.  When 
the  paroxysm  was  over,  the  actor  brought  out  the 
two  remaining  bottles  of  Burgundy. 

"  A  little  of  this  wine  may  relieve  your  throat," 
he  said,  and  filled  .the  glasses  all  round. 

"  Continue,  my  friend,"  called  out  the  jolly- 
faced  officer ;  "  don't  stop  on  my  account." 

Gaillard  went  on  with  his  rehearsal.  The  tall 
gendarme  drank  twice  as  much  wine  as  his  stout 
companion,  who  was  now  rolling  on  the  floor  with 
shouts  of  laughter. 

Finally,  when  the  merry  fellow  could  laugh  no 
more,  and  the  last  drop  of  wine  had  disappeared, 
the  tall  gendarme  stooped,  and  lifting  his  fallen 
companion  to  his  feet  leaned  him  up  against  the 
wall.  "Jean,"  he  said,  "thou  art  drunk.  Shame 
upon  thee."  Then  he  turned  toward  Gaillard. 
"  Come,  citizen  actor,  we  must  take  you  to  the 
Luxembourg." 

"  Let  us  at  least  smoke  a  pipe  of  tobacco  before 
we  go,"  said  Gaillard,  bringing  out  smoking  mate 
rials  from  the  closet. 

"  No  time,  citizen  ;  as  it  is  we  may  get  in  trouble 
through  Jean's  indulgence  in  the  bottle."  The 


PIERRE  AND  JEAN  243 

short  gendarme  certainly  showed  the  effect  of  the 
wine  he  had  taken,  though  he  straightened  up  and 
denied  it. 

"Pierre,  thou  liest,  thou  hast  taken  twice  the 
quantity  I  have,"  he  rejoined,  waving  his  hand 
toward  the  empty  bottles. 

This  also  was  true;  and  Gaillard  looked  with 
wonder  at  the  solemn  countenance  of  the  tall  gen 
darme. 

"  In  any  case,  let  us  light  our  pipes  and  smoke 
them  as  we  go  along  the  street,"  said  the  actor  as 
he  filled  the  pipes  and  handed  one  to  each  of  the 
police  officers. 

"  I  'm  quite  agreeable  to  that,"  said  Gendarme 
Pierre. 

Gendarme  Jean  made  no  reply,  but  endeavored 
to  light  his  pipe  over  the  flame  of  the  candle. 

Through  a  defect  in  vision  occasioned  by  his 
potations,  he  held  the  bowl  several  inches  away 
from  the  flame  and  puffed  vigorously. 

At  this  the  tall  gendarme  laughed  audibly  for 
the  first  time  during  the  evening.  Gaillard  felt 
relieved.  "  He  can  laugh,"  he  murmured. 

"  Wait  one  moment  and  I  will  give  you  a  light," 
he  said,  and  taking  a  piece  of  paper  from  the  chim 
ney-piece  he  carelessly  twisted  it  in  his  fingers, 
ignited  it  in  the  candle's  flames,  and  held  it  over 
Jean's  pipe.  Then  he  repeated  the  service  to  Gen 
darme  Pierre,  and  ended  by  lighting  his  own  pipe, 
holding  the  offending  list  until  the  flame  touched 
his  fingers  and  it  was  entirely  consumed. 

"  Forward,  my  children  !  "  cried  the  stout  gen- 


244  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

darme  gayly.  "  We  must  be  off.  Shall  we  place 
seals  upon  the  doors,  comrade  ?  "  he  said  address 
ing  his  friend  Pierre. 

"No,  my  little  idiot  Jean,  you  will  remember 
we  are  not  supposed  to  have  come  here  at  all. 
The  seals  will  be  placed  here  by  men  from  the 
section.  Hurry  forward  now." 

They  descended  the  stairs  in  single  file.  The 
tall  gendarme  leading,  and  stout  Jean  bringing 
up  the  rear.  He  would  stumble  from  time  to  time 
and  strike  his  head  into  Gaillard's  shoulders. 
"Very  awkward  stairs,"  he  would  murmur  in 
apology,  "  very  awkward." 

Once  in  the  street  he  got  along  better,  although 
his  knees  were  a  little  weak,  and  he  showed  an 
inclination  to  sing. 

"Be  quiet,  Jean,"  expostulated  his  companion 
in  arms  ;  "  you  will  get  both  of  us  in  trouble." 

"  As  mute  as  a  mouse,  my  clothespin,"  was  the 
obedient  reply. 

"  You  would  better  take  his  arm,  citizen  actor. 
We  shall  get  along  faster."  Gaillard  complied, 
and  arm  in  arm  they  walked  off  in  the  direction 
of  the  Luxembourg. 

"  What 's  this  ?  "  demanded  the  warden  in  the 
prison  lodge,  rubbing  his  sleepy  eyes  as  three  men 
appeared  before  him  in  the  gray  light  of  early 
morning. 

"  Hector  Gaillard,  actor ;  domicile  Rue  des 
Mathurins  15 ;  suspect.  Warrant  executed  by 
Officers  Pierre  Echelle  and  Jean  Rondeau,"  said 
the  tall  gendarme. 


PIERRE   AND  JEAN  245 

The  sleepy  guardian  turned  over  the  pages  of 
his  book. 

"  Ah  yes,  here  it  is.  Bring  your  prisoner  this 
way,  citizen  gendarme." 

Whereupon  the  stout  gendarme,  who  had  been 
quiet  for  some  time,  burst  into  tears. 

"  In  God's  name,  what 's  the  matter  with  him  ?  " 
asked  the  astonished  warden. 

"  He  always  does  that  way,"  said  the  gendarme 
Pierre.  "  'T  is  his  sympathetic  nature.  He  gets 
very  much  attached  to  his  prisoners.  Cease  thy 
tears,  Jean,  thou  imbecile,"  and  he  cursed  his 
brother  gendarme  under  his  breath. 

Jean  drew  a  long  sob.  "  Adieu,  my  friend,"  he 
said,  throwing  his  arms  about  Gaillard's  neck. 

"  Why  weepest  thou  ?  "  inquired  the  actor  pre 
tending  to  be  much  affected. 

"  I  am  afraid  they  will  guillotine  thee,  my  beau 
tiful  actor,  before  I  have  laughed  all  the  brass 
buttons  off  my  coat  at  the  play." 

"  Courage,  my  friend,"  replied  Gaillard ;  "  I 
trust  for  thy  sake  that  I  may  live  to  act  in  many 
plays.  Adieu,  my  gendarme,"  and  he  was  led 
away  to  a  cell. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
THE  LUXEMBOURG 

EGBERT  TOURNAT  breathed  easier  after  having 
sent  the  message  to  Gaillard  by  La  Libert  e.  Gail- 
lard  at  least  was  not  likely  to  become  implicated  ; 
and  the  anonymous  communication  once  destroyed, 
nothing  of  an  incriminating  nature  would  be  found, 
should  their  lodging  be  visited.  Nevertheless,  he 
could  not  repress  a  feeling  of  disquiet  as  the  iron 
door  of  the  Luxembourg  clanked  behind  him  and 
he  found  himself  a  prisoner. 

The  cell  into  which  he  was  conducted  was  abso 
lutely  dark. 

"  It  will  not  be  so  bad  during  the  day,"  volun 
teered  the  jailer.  "  There  is  a  small  window  that 
looks  out  on  the  courtyard."  Tournay  drew  a  sigh 
of  thankfulness  on  hearing  this. 

"  Your  bed  is  near  the  door.  Can  you  see  it  ?  " 
asked  the  jailer. 

"  I  can  feel  for  it,"  replied  Tournay.  "  Yes, 
here  it  is." 

"Very  well,  I  will  now  lock  you  up  safely. 
Pleasant  dreams  in  your  new  quarters,  citizen 
colonel."  And  with  this  parting  salute  the  cheer 
ful  jailer  went  jingling  down  the  corridor,  leaving 
Tournay  in  the  darkness,  seated  on  the  edge  of  his 


THE  LUXEMBOURG  247 

narrow  bed,  with  elbows  on  knees  and  his  chin 
resting  in  the  palms  of  his  hands. 

Suddenly  he  sat  up  straight  and  listened  atten 
tively.  The  sound  of  regular  breathing  told  him 
that  he  was  not  the  sole  occupant  of  the  cell. 
"  Whoever  he  may  be,  he  sleeps  contentedly," 
thought  Tournay  ;  "  I  may  as  well  follow  his  good 
example."  In  a  very  few  minutes  a  quiet  concert 
of  long-drawn  breaths  told  of  two  men  sleeping 
peacefully  in  the  cell  on  the  upper  tier  of  the  Lux 
embourg  prison. 

The  little  daylight  that  could  struggle  through 
the  bars  of  the  tiny  window  near  the  ceiling  had 
long  since  made  its  appearance,  when  Robert 
Tournay  opened  his  eyes  next  morning. 

His  fellow  prisoner  was  already  astir ;  and  with 
out  moving,  Tournay  lay  and  watched  him  at  his 
toilet.  He  was  most  particular  in  this  regard. 
Despite  the  diminutive  ewer  and  hand  basin,  his 
ablutions  were  the  occasion  of  a  great  amount  of 
energetic  scrubbing  and  rubbing,  accompanied  by 
a  gentle  puffing  as  if  he  were  enjoying  the  luxury 
of  a  refreshing  bath.  After  washing,  he  wiped  his 
face  and  hands  carefully  on  a  napkin  correspond 
ingly  small.  He  proceeded  with  the  rest  of  his 
toilet  in  the  same  thorough  manner,  as  leisurely 
as  if  he  had  been  in  the  most  luxurious  dressing- 
room.  A  wound  in  his  neck,  that  was  not  entirely 
healed,  gave  him  some  trouble ;  but  he  dressed  it 
carefully,  and  finally  hid  it  entirely  from  sight  by 
a  clean  white  neckerchief  which  he  took  from  a 
little  packet  in  a  corner  of  the  room  near  the  head 


248  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

of  his  bed.  Having  adjusted  the  neckcloth  to  his 
satisfaction,  he  put  on  a  well-brushed  coat,  and, 
sitting  carelessly  upon  the  edge  of  the  table,  —  the 
room  contained  no  chair,  —  he  began  to  polish  his 
nails  with  a  little  set  of  manicure  articles  which 
were  also  drawn  forth  from  his  small  treasury  of 
personal  effects. 

The  light  from  the  slit  of  a  window  above  his 
head  fell  on  his  face.  It  was  thin  and  haggard, 
like  that  of  a  man  who  had  undergone  a  severe  ill 
ness,  but,  despite  this  fact,  it  was  an  attractive  face, 
and  the  longer  Tournay  looked  at  it,  the  more 
it  seemed  to  be  familiar  to  him,  recalling  to  his 
mind  some  one  he  had  once  known. 

Suddenly  the  colonel  sprung  to  his  feet. 

"  St.  Hilaire ! "  he  exclaimed  aloud,  answering 
his  own  mental  inquiry. 

St.  Hilaire  rose  from  his  seat  on  the  table  and 
saluted  Tournay  graciously. 

"  I  am  what  is  left  of  St.  Hilaire,"  he  replied 
lightly.  "  And  you  are  —  For  the  life  of  me 
I  cannot  recall  your  name  at  the  moment.  Though 
I  am  fully  aware  that  I  have  seen  you  more  than 
once  before  this." 

"  My  name  is  Kobert  Tournay." 

"  Of  course.  I  should  have  remembered  it. 
You  must  pardon  my  poor  memory."  Then,  look 
ing  at  him  closely,  he  continued  :  "  You  wear  the 
uniform  of  a  colonel.  You  have  won  distinction, 
and  yet  I  see  you  here  in  prison." 

"  It  matters  not  how  loyal  a  soldier  or  citizen 
one  may  be  if  one  incurs  the  enmity  or  suspicion 
of  Robespierre,"  was  the  answer. 


ADJUSTED  THE  NECKCLOTH  TO  HIS  SATISFACTION 


THE  LUXEMBOURG  249 

"  What  you  say  is  true,  Colonel  Tournay,"  said 
St.  Hilaire. 

"  Do  you  also  owe  your  arrest  to  him  ?  "  asked 
the  colonel. 

"  No,"  replied  St.  Hilaire,  resuming  his  former 
seat.  "  I  became  involved  in  a  slight  dispute  with 
some  of  the  gendarmerie  about  a  certain  question  of 
—  of  etiquette.  The  altercation  became  somewhat 
spirited.  They  lost  their  tempers.  I  nearly  lost 
my  life.  When  I  regained  consciousness  I  dis 
covered  what  remained  of  myself  here,  and  I  am 
recovering  as  fast  as  could  be  expected,  in  view  of 
the  rather  limited  amount  of  fresh  air  and  sunlight 
in  my  chamber." 

Tournay  thought  of  the  brilliant  and  dashing 
Marquis  Raphael  de  St.  Hilaire  as  he  had  seen 
him  in  his  boyhood,  and  looked  with  deep  interest 
at  the  figure  sitting  easily  on  the  edge  of  the  table 
in  apparent  contentment,  cheerfully  accepting  mis 
fortune  with  a  smile,  and  parrying  the  arrows  of 
adversity  with  the.  best  of  his  wit,  like  the  brave 
and  sprightly  gentleman  he  was. 

"The  resources  here  are  somewhat  limited," 
St.  Hilaire  continued.  "  But  by  placing  the  table 
against  the  wall  and  mounting  upon  it  one  can 
squeeze  his  nose  between  the  bars  of  the  window 
and  get  a  glimpse  of  the  courtyard  beneath. 
Occasionally  the  jailer  has  taken  me  for  a  prome 
nade  there.  It  seems  that  we  prisoners  on  the 
second  tier  are  considered  of  more  importance,  or 
else  it  is  feared  that  we  are  more  likely  to  attempt 
to  escape,  for  we  are  kept  in  closer  confinement 


250  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

than  those  who  are  on  the  main  floor.  Although 
this  may  be  construed  as  a  compliment,  it  is  never 
theless  very  tedious.  But  I  am  keeping  you  from 
your  toilet  by  my  gossip.  I  have  left  you  half  of 
the  water  in  the  pitcher.  Pardon  the  small  quan 
tity.  We  will  try  to  prevail  upon  our  jailer  to 
bring  us  a  double  supply  in  future.  He  is  an 
obliging  fellow,  particularly  if  you  grease  his  palm 
with  a  little  silver." 

Tournay  accepted  his  share  of  the  water  with 
alacrity  grateful  for  the  courtesy  that  divides  with 
another  even  a  few  litres  of  indifferently  clean 
water  in  a  prison  cell. 

After  this  toilet,  and  a  breakfast  of  rolls  and 
coffee,  partaken  together  from  the  rough  deal 
table,  the  two  prisoners  felt  as  if  they  had  known 
each  other  for  years. 

The  lines  of  their  lives  had  frequently  run  near 
together  during  the  years  of  the  Revolution,  yet  in 
all  that  whirl  of  events  had  never  crossed  till  now, 
since  the  summer  day  in  the  woods  of  La  Thierry, 
when  the  Marquis  de  St.  Hilaire  had  placed  his 
hand  upon  the  boy's  shoulder  and  bade  him  save 
his  life  by  flight. 

By  some  common  understanding,  subtler  than 
words,  no  reference  to  past  events  was  made  by 
either  of  them.  They  began  their  acquaintance 
then  and  there ;  the  officer  in  the  republican  army, 
and  the  Citizen  St.  Hilaire  ;  fellow  prisoners,  who 
in  spite  of  any  misfortune  that  might  overtake 
them  would  never  falter  in  their  devotion  and  loy 
alty  to  their  beloved  country,  France,  and  who 


THE   LUXEMBOURG  251 

recognized  each  in  the  other  a  man  of  courage 
and  a  gentleman. 

So  the  day  passed  in  discussing  the  victories 
of  the  armies,  the  oppression  and  tyranny  prac 
ticed  by  the  committee,  and  the  prospects  of  the 
future. 

A  few  days  after  Tournay's  incarceration  the 
turnkey  came  toward  nightfall  to  give  them  a 
short  time  for  recreation  in  the  courtyard.  This, 
though  far  from  satisfying,  was  hailed  with  plea 
sure  by  the  prisoners,  and  especially  by  Tonrnay, 
who,  accustomed  to  the  violent  exertion  of  the 
camp  and  field,  chafed  for  want  of  exercise. 

They  were  escorted  along  the  upper  corridor, 
whence  they  could  look  down  into  the  main  hall 
on  the  first  floor  of  the  Luxembourg.  Here,  those 
prisoners  who  were  happy  enough  not  to  be  con 
fined  under  special  orders,  had  the  privilege  of 
congregating  during  the  hours  of  the  day  and  early 
evening.  Looking  down  upon  this  scene  shortly 
after  the  supper  hour,  Tournay  drew  a  breath  of 
surprise.  He  felt  for  a  moment  as  if  he  were 
transported  back  to  the  days  before  the  Revolution 
and  was  looking  upon  a  reception  in  the  crowded 
salons  of  the  chateau  de  Rochefort  where  the  baron 
entertained  as  became  a  grand  seigneur.  The  re 
publican  colonel  turned  a  look  of  inquiry  toward 
St.  Hilaire.  The  latter  gave  a  slight  shrug  as  he 
answered  :  — 

"  The  ladies  dress  three  times  a  day  and  appear 
in  the  evening  in  full  toilet.  As  for  the  men, 
they  also  wear  the  best  they  have.  You  will  see 


252  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

that  many  wear  suits  which  in  better  days  would 
have  been  thrown  to  their  lackeys.  Now  they  are 
mended  and  remended  during  the  day,  that  they 
may  make  their  appearance  at  night,  and  defy  the 
shadows  of  the  gray  stone  walls  and  the  imperfect 
candlelight  quite  bravely.''  And  St.  Hilaire  him 
self  pulled  a  spotless  ruffle  below  the  sleeves  of 
his  well-worn  coat. 

"  And  so,"  mused  Tournay,  "  they  can  find  the 
heart  to  wear  a  gay  exterior  in  such  a  place  as 
this  ?  " 

"  No  revolution  is  great  enough  to  change  the 
feelings  and  passions  of  human  nature,"  replied 
St.  Hilaire.  "  They  only  adapt  themselves  to  new 
conditions.  Here,  within  these  walls,  under  the 
shadow  of  the  guillotine,  Generosity,  Envy,  Love, 
and  Vanity  play  the  same  parts  they  do  in  the 
outer  world.  Affairs  of  the  heart  refuse  to  be 
locked  out  by  a  jailer's  key,  and  these  darkened 
recesses  nightly  resound  with  tender  accents  and 
the  sighs  of  lovers.  Bright  eyes  kindle  sparks 
that  only  death  can  quench.  Jealousy,  also,  is 
sometimes  aroused,  and  I  am  told  that  even  affairs 
of  honor  have  taken  place  here." 

"  I  should  never  have  dreamed  it  possible,"  said 
the  soldier,  looking  with  renewed  interest  upon  the 
moving  picture  at  his  feet ;  from  which  a  sound  of 
vivacious  conversation  arose  like  the  multiplied 
hum  of  many  swarms  of  bees. 

St.  Hilaire  leaned  idly  with  one  arm  on  the 
gallery  rail,  while  he  flecked  from  his  coat  a  few 
grains  of  dust  with  a  cambric  handkerchief.  Sud- 


THE  LUXEMBOURG  253 

denly  he  straightened  himself  and  grasped  the 
railing  tightly  with  both  hands. 

"  Good  God !  can  it  be  possible?"  he  exclaimed 
to  himself. 

Tournay  looked  at  him,  surprised  by  his  sudden 
change  of  manner.  St.  Hilaire  did  not  notice  him, 
but  looked  intently  at  some  one  in  the  hall  below. 

Tournay  followed  the  direction  of  his  compan 
ion's  eyes  and  saw  a  young  woman,  with  childish 
countenance,  standing  by  the  elbow  of  a  woman 
who  was  seated  in  a  chair  occupied  with  some  nee 
dlework. 

"  Countess  d'Arlincourt,"  St.  Hilaire  continued 
sadly,  speaking  to  himself.  "  I  hoped  that  I  had 
saved  her." 

The  woman  glanced  upward,  and  her  large  blue 
eyes  met  St.  Hilaire's  gaze.  After  the  first  start 
of  surprise  her  look  expressed  the  deepest  grati 
tude,  while  his  denoted  interest  and  pity. 

Then  he  turned  away.  "  Come  citizen  jailer," 
he  said,  addressing  the  attendant,  "  lead  us  back 
to  our  cell." 

As  Tournay  was  about  to  follow  St.  Hilaire,  he 
saw,  to  his  amazement,  the  figure  of  de  Lacheville 
standing  apart  from  the  rest,  in  the  shadow  of  the 
wall,  as  if  he  preferred  the  gloomy  companionship 
of  his  own  thoughts  to  the  society  of  his  fellow 
beings  in  adversity. 

"  Do  you  see  that  man  skulking  in  the  shadow  by 
the  wall  ?  "  asked  Tournay,  pointing  de  Lacheville 
out  to  the  jailer.  "  When  did  he  come  here  ?  " 

"A  few  days  ago.     Either  the  same  evening 


254  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

you  were  brought  in,  or  the  day  following,"  was 
the  reply. 

"  The  same  evening !  "  exclaimed  Tournay  to 
himself  as  he  followed  St.  Hilaire  to  their  cell. 
"  Robespierre  has  indeed  been  consistent  in  that 
poor  devil's  case." 

The  Countess  d'Arlincourt  drew  up  a  little 
stool  and  placed  herself  at  the  feet  of  her  friend, 
Madame  de  Remur.  The  latter  was  still  a  wo 
man  in  the  full  flush  of  beauty.  She  was  dressed 
in  black  velvet  which  seemed  but  little  worn,  and 
which  set  off  a  complexion  so  brilliant  that  it 
needed  no  rouge  even  to  counteract  the  pallor  of 
a  prison. 

The  countess  leaned  her  head  against  the  knees 
of  her  friend,  allowing  the  velvet  of  the  dress  to 
touch  her  own  soft  cheek  caressingly. 

"  Do  not  grieve,  my  child,"  said  Madame  de 
Remur,  laying  down  her  embroidery  and  placing 
one  hand  upon  the  blonde  head  in  her  lap. 
"  Grieve  not  too  much  for  your  husband ;  there  is 
not  one  person  in  this  room  who  has  not  to  mourn 
the  loss  of  some  near  friend  or  relative,  and  yet 
for  the  sake  of  those  who  are  living  they  continue 
to  wear  cheerful  faces.  I  only  regret  that  you, 
who  were  at  that  time  safe,  should  have  surren 
dered  yourself  after  the  count  was  taken.  It 
has  availed  nothing,  and  has  sacrificed  two  lives 
instead  of  one." 

"  Hush,  Diane ;  a  wife  should  not  measure  her 
duty  by  the  result.  He  was  a  prisoner.  He  was 
ill.  It  was  my  duty  to  come  to  his  side." 


THE  LUXEMBOURG  255 

"Your  pardon,  dear  child.  You,  with  your 
baby  face  and  gentle  manner,  have  more  real 
courage  than  I.  I  hardly  think  I  could  do  that 
for  any  man  in  the  world." 

"  You  always  underrate  yourself,  dear  Diane, 
you  who  are  the  noblest  and  most  generous  of  wo 
men  !  "  exclaimed  the  countess,  rising.  "  Now  I  am 
going  to  speak  to  that  poor  little  Mademoiselle  de 
Choiseul.  It  was  only  yesterday  that  they  took 
her  father."  And  Madame  d'Arlincourt  moved 
quietly  across  the  room. 

"  I  cannot  understand  the  courage  and  devotion 
of  that  child,"  said  Madame  de  Remur,  address 
ing  the  old  Chevalier  de  Creux  who  stood  behind 
her  chair.  "  I  might  possibly  be  willing  to  share 
any  fate,  even  the  guillotine,  with  a  man  if  I  loved 
him  madly ;  but "  —  and  Madame  de  Remur  fin 
ished  the  sentence  with  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders. 

"  Perhaps  the  countess  loved  her  husband," 
suggested  the  young  Mademoiselle  de  Belloeil  who 
sat  near  the  table,  bending  over  some  crochet 
work,  but  at  the  same  time  lending  an  ear  to 
the  conversation. 

"  How  could  she  ? "  said  Diane,  "  he  was  so 
cold,  so  austere,  and  so  dreadfully  uninteresting, 
and  then  I  happen  to  know  she  did  not,  because  "  — 

"  Because  she  loved  another  gentleman,"  said 
the  chevalier,  completing  the  sentence  with  a 
laugh.  "  Under  the  circumstances  I  do  not  know 
whether  I  admire  the  countess's  loyalty  in  follow 
ing  her  husband  to  prison,  or  condemn  her  cruelty 
in  leaving  a  lover  to  pine  outside  its  walls." 


256  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  She  was  always  a  faithful  wife,  I  would  have 
you  understand,  you  wicked  old  Chevalier  de 
Creux !  "  exclaimed  Madame  de  Remur,  looking 
up  at  him  as  he  leaned  over  the  back  of  her  chair. 

"  Perhaps  the  lover  may  be  confined  in  the 
prison  also,"  suggested  the  philosopher,  who  had 
also  been  a  silent  listener  to  the  dialogue. 

"  More  than  likely,"  assented  the  chevalier 
dryly. 

"  Whether  he  were  here  or  not,"  said  madarne 
decidedly,  "  she  would  have  done  the  same." 

"  Here  is  the  Count  de  Blois,"  said  the  cheva 
lier  ;  "  let  us  put  the  case  before  him." 

"Oh,  you  men,"  laughed  Madame  de  Remur. 
"  I  will  not  accept  the  verdict  of  the  best  of  you. 
But  the  count  is  accompanied  by  the  poet ;  let  us 
get  him  to  recite  us  some  verses."  And  she  tossed 
her  faiicywork  upon  the  table  at  her  side. 

Monsieur  de  Blois,  with  his  arm  through  the 
poet's,  bowed  low  before  them.  The  count  had 
been  in  the  prison  for  over  a  year,  and  the  poor 
gentleman's  wardrobe  had  begun  to  show  the 
effect  of  long  service. 

"  They  have  evidently  forgotten  my  existence 
entirely,"  he  had  said  pathetically  one  morning  to 
a  friend  who  found  him  washing  his  only  fine  shirt 
in  the  prison-yard  fountain.  "  When  this  shirt  is 
worn  out,  I  shall  make  a  demand  to  be  sent  to  the 
guillotine  from  very  modesty." 

A  few  days  later  he  had  received  a  couple  of 
shirts  and  a  note  by  the  hand  of  the  jailer. 

"  Dear  de  Blois,"  the  letter  had  read.     "  I  am 


THE  LUXEMBOURG  257 

called,  and  shall  not  need  these.  If  they  prevent 
you  from  carrying  out  your  threat  of  the  other 
morning,  I  shall  go  with  a  lighter  heart. 

Yours,  V.  de  K." 

"  De  Blois !  "  said  the  chevalier,  drawing  the 
count  away  from  the  table  of  Mademoiselle  de 
Belloeil,  "  you  are  called  to  decide  a  point  of  the 
greatest  delicacy." 

The  count  put  his  glass  to  his  eye  as  if  to  look 
at  the  chevalier  and  the  philosopher,  but  in  reality 
he  only  saw  Mademoiselle  de  Belloeil  bending  over 
her  embroidery. 

"  If  a  lady,"  continued  the  chevalier,  his  bright 
eyes  twinkling,  "  voluntarily  puts  herself  into  a 
prison  where  are  confined  both  her  husband  and 
her  lover,  what  credit  does  she  deserve  for  her 
action  ?  Can  it  be  called  self-sacrifice  ?  " 

Before  replying,  the  count  looked  attentively  at 
the  group  before  him :  at  the  philosopher's  impen 
etrable  countenance ;  at  the  chevalier's  quizzical 
and  wrinkled  brown  physiognomy ;  then  at  Ma 
dame  de  Remur's  handsome  face,  and  lastly  and 
most  tenderly  at  the  drooping  eyelids  of  the  deli 
cate  Mademoiselle  de  Bellceil. 

"  She  would  be  twice  revered,"  replied  de  Blois. 

Mademoiselle  de  Belloeil's  needle  stopped  in  its 
click-click. 

"  Why  so,  monsieur  le  comte  ?  "  inquired  the 
philosopher.  "  If  she  has  a  double  motive  for  the 
sacrifice,  should  not  the  honor  of  it  be  only  half  as 
great?" 

"  She  should  receive  credit  for  her  loyalty  to 


258  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

the  husband  whom  she  had  sworn  to  obey,  and 
homage  for  her  devotion  to  the  lover  on  whom  by 
nature  she  has  placed  her  affections,"  replied  the 
count,  bowing  to  Madame  de  Remur,  while  he 
noted  with  a  certain  satisfaction  the  smile  of  ap 
proval  on  the  lips  of  Mademoiselle  de  Bellceil. 

"And  no  one  has  said  that  she  has  a  lover," 
declared  Madame  de  Remur  warmly. 

"  Did  you  not  imply  as  much,  dear  madame  ?  " 
asked  the  old  chevalier  slyly. 

"  I  intimated  that  she  might  have  had  one  —  if 
—  let  us  change  the  subject.  I  move  that  the 
poet  read  us  his  latest  verses.  I  am  dying  for 
some  amusement." 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  cried  the  old  cheva 
lier,  clapping  his  hands  together  to  attract  the 
attention  of  all  those  in  the  room,  "this  brilliant 
young  author  and  poet,  who  needs  no  introduction 
to  you,  has  consented  to  read  his  latest  produc 
tion.  Will  you  kindly  take  places  ?  " 

There  was  some  polite  applause.  "  The  poem ! 
let  us  hear  the  poem,"  buzzed  upon  all  sides,  and 
the  throng  began  to  settle  down  around  the  poet, 
the  ladies  occupying  the  chairs,  and  the  gentle 
men  either  leaning  against  the  walls  or  seated  upon 
stools  by  the  side  of  those  ladies  in  whose  eyes  they 
found  particular  favor. 

In  a  few  moments  a  hush  of  expectancy  fell 
upon  an  audience  delighted  at  the  prospect  of 
being  entertained. 

"  This  is  a  play  in  verse,"  began  the  poet,  tak 
ing  a  roll  of  manuscript  from  his  pocket. 


THE   LUXEMBOURG  259 

"  A  play !  how  charming,"  said  Mademoiselle 
de  Belloeil. 

"  It  is  in  three  acts,"  continued  the  author.  "Act 
first,  in  the  prison  of  the  Luxembourg,  where  the 
young  people  first  meet  and  fall  deeply  in  love." 

A  rustle  of  approval  ran  through  his  audience. 

"  Act  second  is  in  the  prison  yard  where  they 
are  separated,  she  being  set  at  liberty  and  he  con 
ducted  to  the  guillotine." 

"  Oh,  how  terrible !  "  murmured  the  young  dam 
sel. 

"  One  moment,  monsieur  le  poete,"  said  Madame 
de  Remur.  "  How  does  it  end  ?  I  warn  you  that 
I  shall  not  like  your  play  if  it  ends  unhappily." 

"  You  shall  judge  of  that  in  a  moment,  ma- 
dame,"  replied  the  poet,  bowing  to  her  graciously. 

"  In  the  third  act,"  he  continued,  "  the  lovers 
are  brought  together  under  the  shadow  of  the  guil 
lotine,  whither  she  has  followed  him.  The  knife 
falls  upon  both  of  them  in  quick  succession,  and 
their  souls  are  united  in  the  next  world,  never  to 
be  separated  more." 

"  What  a  beautiful  ending,"  cried  Mademoiselle 
de  Belloeil,  and  the  exclamation  on  the  part  of  the 
audience  showed  that  her  sentiment  was  echoed 
generally. 

"  Continue,"  said  Madame  de  Remur.  "  I  was 
afraid  it  was  going  to  end  unhappily." 

The  chevalier  took  a  pinch  of  snuff  and  settled 
himself  back  in  the  arm-chair  which  was  accorded 
to  him  as  a  tribute  to  his  advanced  age  ;  and  the 
poet  unfolded  his  manuscript  and  began  to  read. 


260  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

It  was  an  intensely  appreciative  audience  that 
listened  to  the  dramatic  work  of  the  poet.  They 
followed  with  breathless  interest  the  meeting  of 
the  young  lovers  in  the  hall  of  the  Luxembourg ; 
assisted  smilingly  at  their  rendezvous  in  the  corri 
dors  and  shadowy  corners  of  the  old  prison ;  and 
sighed  gently  during  the  most  tender  passages. 
At  the  scene  of  separation,  tears  of  regret  flowed 
freely,  and  in  the  meeting  in  the  last  act,  tears  of 
joy  and  sorrow  mingled  together  in  sympathetic 
unison. 

As  the  young  poet  ended  he  folded  up  his  man 
uscript  and  bowed  his  blushing  acknowledgments 
to  the  storm  of  applause  that  greeted  him. 

The  wave  of  approbation  had  not  ceased  to 
resound  through  the  room  when  the  outer  door 
opened,  and  the  jailer  and  some  half  a  dozen  gen 
darmes  entered  abruptly. 

Instantly  the  hum  of  conversation  stopped,  and 
an  icy  chill  fell  upon  the  assemblage.  Faces  that 
the  moment  before  were  wreathed  in  smiles  now 
became  pale  and  marked  with  fear. 

"  The  call  of  to-morrow's  list  to  the  guillotine," 
rang  out  through  the  room  in  harsh  notes. 

Amid  the  silence  of  death,  a  captain  of  gendar 
merie  took  a  slip  of  paper  from  his  pocket,  while 
a  comrade  held  a  lantern  under  his  nose.  Some 
of  those  who  listened  wiped  the  clammy  perspira 
tion  from  their  foreheads,  others  trembled  and  sat 
down.  Some  affected  an  air  of  indifference,  and 
began  a  forced  conversation  with  their  neighbors ; 
but  all  ears  were  strained.  Each  dreaded  lest  his 


THE  LUXEMBOURG  261 

own  name  or  that  of  some  loved  one  should  be 
called  out  by  that  monotonous,  relentless  voice. 

"  Bertrand  de  Chalons." 

An  old  man  stepped  forward. 

"  Annette  Duclos." 

There  was  a  pause  after  each  name,  during 
which  the  suspense  was  intensified. 

"  Diane  de  Remur." 

Madame  de  Remur  laid  aside  her  work  and  rose. 

"  Diane  !  Diane  !  I  cannot  bear  it !  "  cried  the 
Countess  d'Arlincourt,  throwing  her  arms  about 
her  friend's  neck.  "  Oh,  sirs,  have  pity !  " 

"  Hush,  my  dear,"  replied  Madame  de  Remur 
soothingly.  "  Chevalier,  look  to  the  poor  child ; 
she  is  hysterical."  The  chevalier  gently  drew  the 
countess  aside,  then  took  Madame  de  Remur's 
hand  and  silently  bending  over  it,  put  it  to  his  lips. 

"  Take  your  place  in  the  line,  citizeness,"  called 
out  a  gendarme,  and  Madame  de  Remur  stood 
with  the  others. 

"  Andre  de  Blois !  " 

As  de  Blois'  name  was  called,  a  shrill  cry  echoed 
through  the  room,  and  Mademoiselle  de  Belloeil 
fell  back  into  the  chair  from  which  she  had  just 
risen.  She  did  not  swoon,  but  sat  like  one  in  a 
dream,  staring  with  wide-open  eyes. 

The  count  stepped  to  her  side. 

"  Adele,"  he  said,  bending  down  and  speaking 
in  a  low  voice,  "  give  me  one  of  those  roses  you 
are  wearing  on  your  breast."  Mechanically  she 
took  the  flower  from  her  bosom  and  put  it  in  his 
hand.  He  placed  it  over  his  heart.  "  It  shall  be 


262  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

here  to  the  last,"  he  said  softly ;  "  now  farewell ;  " 
and  he  pressed  a  kiss  upon  her  cold  lips. 

"  Maurice  de  Lacheville." 

A  man  crouched  down  behind  a  group  of  pris 
oners,  and  all  heads  were  turned  in  his  direction. 

"  Maurice  de  Lacheville,  you  are  called,"  said 
a  gendarme,  going  up  to  him  and  seizing  him  by 
the  arm  with  no  gentle  grasp. 

"There  is  some  mistake,"  cried  de  Lacheville 
pitiably. 

"  There  is  no  mistake,  your  name  is  here." 

"  I  say,  there  must  be  some  mistake.  My  arrest 
was  a  mistake.  I  was  promised  "  — 

"  Into  the  line  with  you,"  was  the  gruff  inter 
ruption.  "  Many  would  claim  there  was  a  mistake 
if  it  would  avail  them  to  say  so." 

"  But  in  my  case  it  is  true,"  pleaded  de  Lache 
ville.  "  Send  word  to  Robespierre ;  he  pro 
mised  "  — 

"  Into  the  line,  I  tell  you  !  "  cried  the  exasper 
ated  gendarme.  "  There  is  no  mistake  ;  your  name 
is  written  here.  You  go  with  the  rest." 

"  One  moment,  one  little  moment,"  implored  the 
wretched  marquis  in  an  agony  of  fear.  "  Oh, 
messieurs  the  gendarmes,  if  you  will  but  hear  me, 
I  have  an  important  communication  to  make." 
All  this  time  he  was  fighting  desperately  as  the 
two  officers  of  the  law  dragged  him  toward  the 
door. 

"  Silence,  idiot !  "  yelled  the  angry  captain,  "  or 
I  will  have  you  bound  and  gagged.  Take  example 
from  these  women  who  put  you  to  shame." 


THE  LUXEMBOURG  263 

"  Idiot  that  I  was,"  cried  de  Lacheville,  "  why 
did  I  ever  return  from  a  place  of  safety  ?  None 
but  a  fool  would  have  trusted  the  word  of  Robes 
pierre." 

"  Bind  him,"  ordered  the  captain. 

With  a  strength  no  one  would  have  believed 
that  he  possessed,  de  Lacheville  threw  off  those 
who  held  him. 

"  Stand  back!  "  he  shouted  wildly,  as  the  officers 
endeavored  to  seize  him.  He  drew  an  object 
quickly  from  his  pocket. 

"  Take  care,  Jean.  He  has  a  weapon,"  cried 
one. 

There  was  a  report  of  a  pistol,  and  the  marquis 
fell  forward  to  the  floor. 

A  murmur  of  horror  filled  the  prison  hall. 
Women  fainted,  and  men  turned  away  their  heads. 
The  gendarmes  hastened  to  bend  over  him. 

"  I  believe  he  is  dead,  captain,"  said  one  after 
a  brief  examination. 

"  Carry  him  out  with  the  others  just  the  same," 
ordered  the  captain.  "  Pierre,  continue  with  the 
list." 

"  Bertrand  de  Tourin." 

"Here." 

"AdeledeBellceil." 

There  was  a  cry  of  joy  in  the  answer :  — 

"  I  am  here.  The  Blessed  Virgin  has  heard  my 
prayer ; "  and  Mademoiselle  de  Belloeil  stepped 
forward.  "  Andre,  I  come  with  you ;  we  shall 
go  together  where  they  can  never  separate  us." 
And  she  threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  her  lover. 


264  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  About  face  —  fall  in  —  forward  !  march."  The 
heavy  door  closed,  and  those  who  had  been  called 
were  led  away,  while  those  remaining  in  the  prison 
went  quietly  to  their  cells,  to  recommence  the  same 
life  on  the  morrow  until  the  next  roll-call. 

"  The  nobility  of  France,"  said  the  chevalier  to 
the  philosopher,  "may  not  have  known  how  to 
live,  but  it  knows  how  to  die." 

"  Except  the  Marquis  de  Lacheville,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  Bah.  He  was  always  one  of  the  canaille  at 
heart ;  he  only  proves  my  assertion,"  and  the  che 
valier  took  an  extra  large  pinch  of  snuff  and 
limped  off  to  his  mattress  of  straw. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

TAPPEUR   AND   PETITSOU 

"  WHAT  are  you  bringing  us  now  ?  "  growled  a 
voice  from  a  corner  of  the  cell.  Gaillard  heard 
the  rustling  of  straw,  but  his  eyes  were  not  enough 
accustomed  to  the  gloom  to  enable  him  to  see  what 
sort  of  being  it  was  who  gave  utterance  to  this 
harsh  welcome. 

"  Are  not  two  enough  in  a  trap  like  this  ?  "  the 
speaker  went  on,  rising  and  coming  forward. 
"  There  's  hardly  enough  air  for  us  as  it  is,  with 
out  your  putting  in  another  one." 

44  So  it 's  you,  Tappeur,  complaining  again," 
remarked  the  jailer.  "  You  had  better  be  thank 
ful  you  're  not  four  in  a  cell  as  they  are  in  most 
of  them.  The  prison  is  full  to  overflowing.  No 
matter  how  many  they  take  out,  there  's  always 
more  to  fill  their  places.  You  '11  have  to  make 
the  best  of  it."  And  he  closed  the  door  with  an 
unfeeling  slam. 

Tappeur  brushed  some  of  the  straw  from  his 
hair  and  beard.  "  A  plague  upon  these  suspects 
that  fill  up  our  prisons  !  "  he  exclaimed  with  an 
oath ;  "  we  honest  criminals  have  to  put  up  with 
the  vilest  accommodations  because  you  crowd  us 
to  the  wall  by  force  of  numbers.  You  are  a  sus- 


266  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

pect,  are  n't  you  ?  "  he  demanded,  coming  nearer 
and  putting  a  dirty  face  close  to  Gaillard's. 

The  cell  which  they  occupied  was  below  the 
level  of  the  ground.  Overhead  at  the  juncture  of 
the  ceiling  and  wall  was  a  grating  through  which 
came  all  the  light  and  air  they  received. 

"  You  are  a  suspect,  is  it  not  so  ?  "  repeated 
Tappeur  as  Gaillard  made  no  answer. 

"  I  have  not  the  honor  of  being  an  '  honest 
criminal,'  "  replied  the  actor,  drawing  away  with 
a  movement  of  disgust  from  the  seamed  and  dis 
torted  visage  thrust  close  to  his. 

"  Bah,  I  thought  not,"  said  Tappeur  with  an 
other  oath.  "  Well,  suspect,  come  over  here  under 
the  grating  and  let  me  take  a  good  look  at  your 
face,"  and  he  seized  Gaillard  roughly  by  the 
arm. 

Tappeur  received  a  violent  blow  on  the  chest 
which  sent  him  reeling  into  a  dark  corner  of  the 
cell,  clutching  at  the  empty  air  as  if  to  sustain 
himself  by  catching  hold  of  the  shadows.  His  fall 
to  the  ground  was  followed  by  an  explosion  of 
oaths  in  a  new  voice,  in  which  explosion  Tappeur 
himself  joined  vigorously. 

"  I  've  stirred  up  a  nest  of  them,"  said  Gaillard 
to  himself,  and  then  stood  awaiting  developments. 

The  torrent  of  profanity  having  exhausted  itself, 
Tappeur  emerged  from  the  shadowy  recess  of  the 
wall  followed  by  a  smaller  man. 

"  How  do  you  like  my  looks  ?  "  inquired  Gail 
lard  cheerfully. 

"  I  'm  satisfied  for  the  present,"  replied  Tappeur. 


TAPPEUR  AND  PETITSOU  267 

"  Your  fist  is  hard  enough ;  what  may  your  trade 
be?" 

"  I  have  no  regular  profession,  I  'm  a  little  of 
everything.  What 's  yours  ?  " 

"  I  belong  to  the  4  Brotherhood  of  the  Ready 
Hand.'  Our  motto  is  '  Steal  and  Kill ; '  our 
watchward  '  Blood  and  Death ; '  and  our  coat  of 
arms  '  A  Cord  and  Gallows.' '  And  Tappeur 
chuckled  gleefully. 

"  You  are  evidently  a  rare  accumulation  of 
talent  and  virtue.  I  should  enjoy  knowing  more 
of  you.  Is  this  a  member  of  your  band  ? "  and 
Gaillard  pointed  to  the  man  who  had  just  been 
awakened,  and  who  was  yawning  and  stretching 
his  arms. 

"  Our  band,  oh  no,  this  is  the  great  Petitsou." 

"  And  who  is  Petitsou  ?  " 

"  What !  you  don't  know  Petitsou  ?  "  demanded 
Tappeur  pityingly. 

"  Never  heard  of  him." 

"  He  never  even  heard  of  you,  Petitsou ! "  ex 
claimed  Tappeur,  turning  to  his  companion  with  a 
gesture  of  disgust. 

Petitsou  shrugged  his  shoulders  in  reply,  as  if 
to  say,  "  He  has  been  the  only  loser." 

"  Pray  let  me  be  compensated  for  my  ill  fortune, 
by  learning  all  about  you  now,  Citizen  Petitsou." 

"  I  have  made  more  counterfeit  money  than  any 
man  in  France  now  living,  I  might  say  more  than 
any  man  who  ever  has  lived,  but  I  believe  some 
one  or  two  of  the  old  kings  have  surpassed  me," 
said  Petitsou. 


268  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  He  is  an  artist,"  whispered  Tappeur  ;  "  he 
does  not  make  you  a  clumsy,  bungling  coin  only  to 
be  palmed  off  upon  women  and  blind  men.  He 
creates  an  article  finer  to  look  at  than  the  gov 
ernment  mint  can  produce.  Pardieu,  I  'd  rather 
have  a  pocket  full  of  his  silver  than  that  bearing 
either  the  face  of  Louis  Capet  or  of  this  new  Re 
public."  And  Tappeur  looked  at  his  friend  the 
artist  admiringly. 

"  It  was  when  the  government  issued  these 
assignats  that  my  great  fortune  was  made,"  con 
tinued  Petitsou.  "  In  fact,  it  was  too  much  suc 
cess  that  brought  me  here.  I  found  them  so  easy 
to  make  that  I  manufactured  them  by  the  whole 
sale.  I  stored  my  cellar  with  them.  I  even  had 
the  audacity  to  make  the  government  a  small  loan 
in  assignats  on  which  I  did  the  entire  work  myself, 
reproducing  the  very  signatures  of  the  officials 
who  received  the  funds.  Oh,  it  was  a  rare  sport." 

"  But  your  forgeries  were  finally  detected  ? " 
said  Gaillard  inquiringly. 

"The  workmanship  and  the  signatures  never. 
I  could  have  gone  on  making  enough  to  buy  up 
the  whole  government,  but  for  a  mishap.  I  made 
a  glaring  error  in  the  date  of  a  certain  issue  of 
assignats.  I  never  liked  the  new  calendar,  and 
always  had  to  take  particular  care  to  get  it  right, 
but  one  day  my  memory  slipped  up,  and  I  dated  a 
batch  of  one  hundred  thousand  francs,  November 
14,  1793,  instead  of  25th  Brumaire,  year  II.  Oh, 
that  was  an  unpardonable  slip,  and  I  deserved  to 
pay  the  penalty." 


TAPPEUR  AND  PETITSOU  269 

"  It  seems  cruel,"  remarked  Gaillard,  "  to  keep 
a  useful  member  of  society,  like  you,  in  this  filthy 
dungeon." 

"  The  greatest  cruelty  is  in  keeping  the  mate 
rials  of  my  trade  away  from  me.  They  know  my 
love  for  my  art,  and  take  delight  in  torturing  me. 
Although  I  promise  not  to  try  any  dodge,  they 
won't  trust  me.  If  they  would  only  let  me  have 
a  little  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  I  should  be  happy." 

"  Pen,  ink,  and  paper  ? "  repeated  Gaillard. 
"That 's  a  modest  desire." 

"  They  won't  let  him  have  them,"  put  in  Tap- 
peur.  "  He  'd  play  them  all  sorts  of  tricks.  He  'd 
forge  all  sorts  of  documents,  and  worry  the  life  out 
of  the  jailers." 

The  door  opened  a  few  inches,  and  a  jug  of  wa 
ter  and  a  large  square  loaf  made  their  appearance, 
pushed  in  by  an  invisible  hand. 

"  Let 's  divide  our  rations  for  the  day,"  sug 
gested  Petitsou.  "Have  they  given  us  a  larger 
loaf,  Tappeur,  on  account  of  our  increased  num 
ber?" 

"  But  very  little  larger,"  replied  Tappeur,  pick 
ing  up  the  loaf  of  black  bread  and  surveying  it 
hungrily. 

"  Is  that  all  we  receive  in  the  way  of  food  ? " 
asked  Gaillard  ruefully.  He  had  missed  his 
usual  supper  after  the  theatre  the  night  before, 
and  was  quite  ready  for  breakfast. 

"  That 's  all,  unless  you  've  got  money.  You 
can  buy  what  you  like  with  that."  And  Tappeur 
eyed  him  slyly  out  of  his  deep-set  eyes. 


270  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"What  do  you  say  to  some  wine  in  place  of 
this  cold  water,  and  some  white  bread,  with 
perhaps  a  little  sausage  added  by  the  way  of  rel 
ish  ?"  suggested  Gaillard  mildly. 

"Hey,  you  jailer!"  called  out  Tappeur,  fran 
tically  rushing  toward  the  door,  fearful  lest  the 
man  might  be  out  of  hearing.  The  jailer  retraced 
his  steps  reluctantly. 

"  A  commission  from  the  new  lodger.  A  bottle 
of  wine.  A  white  loaf  in  place  of  this  vile,  sour 
stuff,  and  some  sweet  little  sausage.  A  little  to 
bacco  also.  Am  I  not  right,  my  comrade  ?  "  asked 
Tappeur,  looking  at  Gaillard  inquiringly. 

"  Some  tobacco,  of  course,"  nodded  Gaillard, 
producing  a  coin. 

"  Have  it  strong ;  I  have  tasted  none  for  so  long 
that  it  must  bite  my  tongue  to  make  up  for  lost 
time.  Hurry  with  thy  commissions  my  good  little 
citizen  jailer ;  the  new  lodger  is  hungry,  and  we, 
too,  have  no  small  appetites." 

"Tobacco,"  said  Petitsou,  "next  to  ink  and 
paper,  I  have  longed  for  that.  And  I  have  money, 
too !  "  and  he  produced  a  five-franc  piece.  "  As 
good  a  piece  of  silver  as  ever  rang  from  the  gov 
ernment  mint,  and  yet  that  cursed  jailer  refuses 
to  take  it,  or  bring  me  the  smallest  portion  of  to 
bacco  for  it.  The  donkey  fears  I  have  manufac 
tured  it  here  on  the  premises,  or  that  I  extracted 
it  from  thin  air  like  a  magician." 

The  breakfast  being  brought,  Tappeur  rolled  a 
couple  of  large  stones  toward  the  lightest  portion 
of  the  cell,  and  placed  a  board  across  them  for  a 


TAPPEUR  AND   PETITSOU  271 

table.  They  had  nothing  to  sit  upon  but  their 
heels.  The  two  criminals  had  accustomed  them 
selves  to  this  method  of  sitting  at  meals,  but  Gail- 
lard  found  it  more  comfortable  to  partake  of  his 
food  standing  with  his  shoulders  to  the  wall. 

"  Fall  to,  comrades ! "  cried  Tappeur,  breaking 
off  an  end  of  the  loaf  and  taking  a  sausage  in  his 
other  hand.  "  There  's  no  cup,  so  we  must  drink 
from  the  bottle."  And  he  handed  the  wine  to 
Gaillard  first,  by  way  of  attention. 

Gaillard  put  the  bottle  to  his  lips  and  took  a 
long  draught  of  the  contents  while  Tappeur 
watched  him  anxiously.  He  then  passed  it  over 
to  Petitsou,  who  treated  it  in  a  like  manner.  Tap 
peur  received  it  in  his  turn  in  thankful  silence, 
and  after  having  punished  it  severely,  put  it  down 
by  his  side.  Gaillard  helped  himself  to  a  piece  of 
bread  and  a  sausage,  and  ate  with  good  appetite, 
leaving  his  new  companions  to  finish  the  wine,  to 
the  evident  satisfaction  of  those  two  worthies. 

"  You  have  a  hard  fist,  my  brave  comrade ! "  ex 
claimed  Tappeur,  filling  a  pipe  as  short  and  grimy 
as  the  thumb  that  pushed  the  tobacco  down  into 
the  bowl.  "A  hard  fist  and  a  free  purse  and  Tap 
peur  is  your  friend  for  life."  To  give  emphasis  to 
his  words  he  puffed  a  cloud  of  blue  smoke  up  into 
Gaillard's  face,  and  drained  the  last  few  drops  of 
wine  in  the  flagon. 

"  That 's  very  good  stuff,"  he  continued,  balan 
cing  the  empty  bottle  upon  its  nose,  "  but  brandy 
would  be  more  satisfying." 

Gaillard  refused  to  take  the  hint,  and  turned 


272  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

away  to  spread  his  cloak  in  a  corner  of  the  cell, 
where  he  lay  down  upon  it  and  was  soon  in  a  deep 


"Week  followed  week,  and  Gaillard  continued  to 
live  below  the  ground  far  from  the  sunlight  which 
he  loved  so  dearly,  while  Tournay,  confined  in  the 
cell  upon  the  second  floor,  wondered  why  he  re 
ceived  no  word  from  the  friend  in  the  outside 
world. 

Thus  they  lived  ^within  one  hundred  yards  of 
each  other,  thinking  of  each  other  daily,  and  with 
no  means  of  communication.  One  thing  Gaillard 
had  to  be  thankful  for,  and  that  was  the  sum  of 
money  the  theatre  manager  had  paid  him  on  the 
very  night  of  his  arrest.  With  it  he  had  purchased 
many  comforts  to  make  his  life  more  bearable.  He 
had  procured  a  fresh  supply  of  straw  and  a  warm 
blanket  for  his  bed ;  some  candles  and  a  rough 
chair  upon  which  he  took  turns  in  sitting  with  the 
two  jail-birds,  his  companions,  although  at  meals 
he  always  occupied  it  by  tacit  consent. 

Under  the  influence  of  the  additional  food  which 
Gaillard's  purse  supplied,  Tappeur  grew  fat  and 
better  natured,  though  he  swore  none  the  less,  and 
drank  and  smoked  all  that  Gaillard  would  provide 
for  him.  Indeed,  he  thought  the  actor  a  little  nig 
gardly  in  furnishing  the  brandy,  and  one  day,  after 
a  good  meal,  was  inclined  to  be  swaggering,  intimat 
ing  that,  with  respect  to  drink,  the  rations  should 
be  increased.  Whereupon  Gaillard  cut  off  his 
potations  entirely  for  twenty-four  hours,  and  he  be 
came  as  meek  as  a  lamb  and  remained  so  ever  after. 


TAPPEUR  AND   PETITSOU  273 

Both  the  bully  and  Petitsou  would  frequently 
regale  Gaillard  with  long  accounts  of  their  past 
crimes.  During  the  recitals,  Tappeur,  although 
always  boastful  on  his  own  account,  showed  a  cer 
tain  deference  to  the  forger. 

"  I  can  cut  a  throat  or  rob  a  purse  with  the 
best  blackguard  in  France,"  he  would  say  to  the 
actor,  "  but  that  little  Petitsou  is  the  true  artist." 

Notwithstanding  these  diversions,  the  time 
dragged  wearily,  and  Gaillard 's  face  began  to  lose 
its  roundness,  while  the  smile  did  not  broaden  his 
wide  mouth  so  frequently  as  of  old.  His  money 
began  to  get  low,  and  he  looked  forward  with 
dread  to  the  time  when  it  would  be  entirely  gone 
and  he  would  have  to  divide  the  musty  black  loaf 
and  the  pitcher  of  fetid  water  with  the  two  crim 
inals,  without  the  wherewithal  to  buy  even  such 
good  nature  and  entertainment  as  they  could  fur 
nish.  He  longed  for  the  time  of  his  trial  to 
come.  He  knew  from  what  he  had  heard  of  the 
experiences  of  others,  that  he  might  be  called  for 
trial  any  day,  or  that  he  might  languish  in  jail 
for  months,  forgotten  and  neglected.  Every  day 
when  he  asked  the  jailer  who  brought  their  food, 
"  Have  I  not  been  called  for  trial  ?  "  and  received 
the  response,  "  Not  to-day,"  his  heart  sank  lower. 

One  day  when  he  had  only  five  francs  left  in 
his  purse,  and  had  refrained  from  ordering  any 
wine,  much  to  Tappeur's  disgust,  the  jailer  came 
to  inform  him  that  he  was  to  come  forth  for 
trial. 

"  Good   luck   attend   you,  citizen   actor,"  said 


274  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Petitsou,  with  some  show  of  friendship,  as  Gaillard 
prepared  to  leave  them,  smiling. 

"  As  we  must  lose  you  in  one  way  or  another," 
called  out  Tappeur  after  him  as  he  disappeared 
down  the  corridor,  "  let  us  hope  that  the  national 
razor  will  not  bungle  when  it  shaves  you,  my 
brave." 

Gaillard's  spirits  rose  as  he  came  up  to  the  light 
of  day.  In  a  few  hours  he  would  know  what  his 
destiny  would  be,  and  the  fresh  air  gave  him  re 
newed  courage  to  meet  it.  His  wish  to  learn  just 
what  fate  had  overtaken  Tournay  gave  him  an 
additional  interest  in  life. 

Passing  through  the  main  corridor  he  heard  his 
name  called,  and  looking  toward  the  corridor  of 
the  upper  tier  he  saw  the  face  of  his  friend. 

It  was  only  an  instant,  and  then  Gaillard  passed 
out  with  others  to  the  street.  At  first  Tournay's 
heart  throbbed  with  apprehension  at  the  sight  of 
his  friend.  He  had  feared  all  along  that  had 
Gaillard  been  at  liberty  he  would  have  received 
some  message  from  him,  or  other  evidence  of  his 
existence,  and  now  his  fears  were  confirmed.  Yet 
somehow  the  very  sight  of  Gaillard's  cheerful  face, 
smiling  up  at  him,  reassured  him. 

"  Am  called  for  trial,"  the  actor's  lips  framed. 
"  And  you  ?  "  Tournay  made  a  negative  gesture. 

"  Paper  destroyed,"  Gaillard  next  signaled  with 
his  lips,  but  he  dared  not  make  the  words  too 
plain  for  fear  of  detection,  and  the  message  was 
lost  on  Tournay.  Then  they  saw  each  other  no 
longer. 


TAPPEUR  AND  PETITSOU  275 

It  was  into  a  small  court  room  that  Gaillard  saw 
himself  conducted.  He  looked  round  with  sur 
prise.  The  trials  were  usually  attended  by  large 
and  interested  crowds  of  people. 

"  I  am  evidently  considered  of  small  impor 
tance,  and  so  am  disposed  of  by  an  inferior  court," 
thought  he.  "  So  much  the  better." 

The  case  being  tried  at  the  moment  was  one  of 
petty  larceny.  "  The  other  courts  must  be  doing 
an  enormous  business,  to  oblige  them  to  turn  some 
of  us  over  to  these  little  criminal  courts,"  contin 
ued  Gaillard  musingly  as  the  affair  in  question 
was  disposed  of  and  he  was  called. 

"  Read  the  act  of  accusation,"  said  the  judge, 
"  and  hurry  the  affair.  I  wish  to  go  to  din 
ner." 

"Don't  let  me  detain  you,"  thought  Gaillard. 
Then  he  put  his  hands  to  his  head  to  ascertain  if 
his  ears  were  in  their  proper  place,  for  he  could 
not  understand  a  word  of  the  accusation  as  read 
by  the  clerk.  He  heard  a  jumble  about  "  coat," 
"personal  assault,"  "refused  payment,"  then  looked 
in  bewilderment  at  the  judge  and  prosecuting  at 
torney,  till  from  them  his  eyes  wandered  about  the 
dingy  court  room.  All  at  once  the  sight  of  a  face 
in  the  witness  box  caused  a  light  to  flash  through 
his  brain,  and  elucidate  the  whole  matter.  He 
recognized  his  tailor,  who  sat  with  vindictive  eyes, 
holding  over  his  arm  the  identical  coat  that  had 
been  the  cause  of  the  dispute  on  the  very  day  of 
his  arrest. 

Gaillard  could   barely  repress    his    merriment. 


276  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

The  rancor  of  the  little  tailor  had  followed  him  to 
prison,  and  dragged  him  out  to  answer  a  complaint 
of  assault  and  intent  to  defraud. 

"  I  wonder,"  thought  Gaillard,  "  if  I  am  con 
victed  and  sentenced  for  this  crime,  and  subse 
quently  condemned  to  the  guillotine,  which  penalty 
I  shall  have  to  pay  first  ?  " 

"  Have  you  any  counsel,  prisoner  ?  "  demanded 
the  judge. 

"  I  will  plead  my  own  case,"  replied  Gaillard 
cheerfully. 

"  Call  the  complainant  and  witness." 

After  a  long  recital  on  the  part  of  the  tailor  of 
the  history  of  the  coat,  and  the  treatment  he  had 
received  at  the  hands  of  the  brutal  prisoner,  during 
which  the  judge  yawned,  indicating  his  desire  to 
get  out  to  dinner,  Gaillard  took  the  stand. 

"  My  sole  defense,"  said  he  smilingly,  "  is  that 
the  tailor  wittingly,  maliciously,  and  falsely,  endea 
vored  to  palm  off  upon  me,  a  poor  actor,  a  garment 
never  made  for  me." 

"  How  will  you  prove  it? ".demanded  the  judge. 

"  By  simply  trying  on  the  coat,"  answered  Gail 
lard.  "If  you  decide  it  was  made  for  me,  I  will 
abandon  my  defense." 

"  Let  the  prisoner  have  the  garment,"  ordered 
the  judge. 

Gaillard  slowly  proceeded  to  divest  himself  of 
his  own  coat  and  don  the  offending  garment  which 
the  tailor  now  presented  to  him  reluctantly. 

It  had  fitted  him  badly  on  the  first  occasion  he 
had  tried  it  on,  and  now,  by  a  slight  contortion  of 


TAPPEUR  AND  PETITSOU  277 

his  supple  body,  the  actor  made  the  misfit  ridicu 
lously  apparent. 

The  court  officers  grinned,  even  the  judge  could 
not  repress  a  smile,  and  the  tailor  looked  foolish. 

"  That  is  quite  sufficient,"  said  the  justice. 
"  How  much  did  the  tailor  want  you  to  pay  for 
this  grotesque  garment  ?  " 

"  Two  hundred  francs  the  bill  calls  for." 

"  Two  hundred  francs  ?  "  ejaculated  the  judge. 

"  In  gold  coin,"  emphasized  Gaillard. 

"  It  is  very  expensive  material,"  explained  the 
tailor  ruefully. 

"  Down  how  many  flights  of  stairs  does  the  com 
plaint  state  the  prisoner  kicked  the  tailor  ?  "  asked 
the  judge. 

"  Only  one  short  one,"  volunteered  Gaillard, 
grinning  at  the  discomfited  tailor. 

"  Only  one  short  one  ?  "  repeated  the  judge. 
"  You  were  very  moderate ;  such  an  absurd  gar 
ment  would  have  justified  three  flights." 

There  was  a  laugh  in  the  court  room.  The 
judge  tapped  for  order. 

"  The  prisoner  is  discharged,"  he  said. 

Gaillard  rose  and  looked  for  the  guards  who  had 
escorted  him  from  the  Luxembourg,  thankful  for 
the  brief  respite  he  had  had  from  the  tedium  of 
confinement. 

"  You  are  a  free  man,  Citizen  Gaillard,"  said 
the  judge,  waving  his  hand  toward  the  open  door. 

"  Do  you  mean  I  can  leave  the  court  room  by 
that  door  ?  "  asked  Gaillard,  his  heart  rising  up  in 
his  throat. 


278  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Certainly  ;  I  dismiss  the  complaint." 

"  Thank  you,  your  honor,"  said  Gaillard,  step 
ping  quickly  through  the  doorway  into  the  street. 

"  Your  honor !  "  gasped  a  court  attendant  hur 
riedly  appearing  at  the  judge's  desk. 

"  I  have  no  time  to  listen  to  anything  further 
now.  I  am  off  to  dinner,"  said  the  judge  snap 
pishly. 

"  But  does  your  honor  know  ?  Is  your  honor 
aware  that  the  prisoner  was  a  suspect  from  the 
Luxembourg,  brought  here  by  me  for  trial  on  this 
charge  of  assault,  to  be  returned  after  "  — 

"  Bring  him  back  at  once !  "  yelled  the  judge. 
"  You  idiot,  why  did  n't  you  say  so  before  ?  " 

"  But,  your  honor,  I "  — 

"  After  him,  constables ;  be  quick,  he  cannot 
have  gone  fifty  yards." 

Half  a  dozen  men  rushed  into  the  street  and 
looked  in  all  directions.  But  Gaillard  was  not  to 
be  seen. 


CHAPTER  XX 

UNCLE   MICHELET 

ONE  April  day  a  wave  of  excitement  swept 
through  the  entire  prison.  It  was  repeated  in 
every  cell  and  whispered  in  every  ear. 

"The  lion  has  been  taken  in  the  mesh!  The 
great  Danton  is  a  prisoner  in  the  Luxembourg !  " 

At  first  Tournay  could  not  believe  the  report. 
It  seemed  as  if  those  giant  arms  need  but  to  be 
extended  to  break  the  bonds  that  held  them,  and 
allow  their  owner  to  walk  out  into  the  air  a  free 
man. 

Yet  it  was  indeed  true,  and  one  day,  for  a  few 
moments  only,  Tournay  had  an  opportunity  to  see 
and  converse  with  the  fallen  chieftain  as  he  stood 
in  the  door  of  his  cell,  talking  in  a  loud  voice  to 
all  who  were  near  enough  to  hear  him. 

As  Danton  saw  Colonel  Tournay  he  ceased 
speaking  and  held  out  his  hand.  In  his  eyes  there 
was  a  peculiar  look  which  the  latter  understood. 

"  You  see,  it  has  come  at  last  even  to  me,"  said 
Danton  quietly. 

"  Ah,  why  did  you  not  crush  the  snake  before  it 
entwined  you  with  its  coils  ?  "  asked  Tournay 
sadly. 

"  I  did  not  think  he  would  dare  do  it,"  replied 


280  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Danton.  "  Robespierre  is  rushing  to  his  ruin. 
What  will  they  do  without  me  ?  They  are  all 
mad." 

"  You  should  have  distrusted  their  madness, 
even  if  you  did  not  fear  it,"  was  the  rejoinder. 

"  The  end  is  near,"  answered  Danton.  "  It  is 
fate.  Yet  if  I  could  leave  my  brains  to  Robes 
pierre  and  my  legs  to  Couthon,  the  Revolution 
might  still  limp  along  for  a  short  time,"  and  he 
laughed  roughly.  "  Good-by,  Tournay,"  he  said 
in  a  tone  of  kindliness.  "  You  are  a  brave  man 
and  a  true  Republican  ;  such  men  as  you  might 
have  saved  the  Republic,  but  it  was  not  to  be." 
He  entered  his  cell,  and  Tournay  never  saw  hirn 
again. 

The  next  day  Danton  was  taken  to  the  concier- 
gerie  and  to  his  trial,  and  the  day  following  to  the 
guillotine.  The  lion  head  was  parted  from  the 
giant  trunk,  and  the  Revolution  swept  on. 

The  weeks  dragged  on  monotonously  to  Colonel 
Tournay  and  St.  Hilaire  in  the  Luxembourg.  The 
trees  in  the  gardens  beyond  their  prison  walls  had 
put  forth  their  leaves,  and  the  song  of  birds  was 
borne  sometimes  even  into  the  recesses  of  their 
cell. 

"  Why  are  we  left  to  rot  here  in  this  stifling 
place  ?  "  exclaimed  Colonel  Tournay  for  the  thou 
sandth  time.  "  Why  are  we  not  even  called  for 
trial?  Has  Robespierre  forgotten  our  existence?" 

"  Let  us  hope  that  he  has,"  rejoined  St.  Hilaire. 
"  As  long  as  we  are  overlooked  we  shall  get  into 
no  worse  trouble.  We  are  not  so  very  uncomfort- 


UNCLE  MICHELET  281 

able  here,"  and  St.  Hilaire  sprang  upon  the  table 
to  put  his  nose  out  between  the  window  bars,  like 
a  fox  in  a  cage,  to  get  what  air  there  was  stirring 
and  to  look  at  the  little  patch  of  blue  sky. 

Tournay  smiled  sadly.  He  envied  St.  Hilaire 
his  cheerfulness  and  adaptability,  while  he  felt  his 
own  spirit  breaking  under  the  long  confinement. 

He  sat  down  upon  the  edge  of  the  bed  and  won 
dered  what  had  happened  in  the  world  since  he  had 
been  cut  off  from  it.  His  thoughts  were  fre 
quently  of  Gaillard,  and  he  wished  he  could  learn 
something  about  his  friend.  As  he  was  sitting 
thus,  oppressed  by  the  warmth  of  a  June  after 
noon,  the  turnkey  entered  the  cell. 

"  There  is  an  old  man  come  to  see  you,"  he  said, 
addressing  Tournay.  "  Your  uncle  from  the  pro 
vinces,  I  believe.  You  may  see  him  outside  here 
in  the  corridor." 

"  I  wonder  who  this  visitor  may  be,"  thought 
Tournay  as  he  followed  the  turnkey.  "Had  I 
not  received  word  of  my  poor  father's  death  two 
months  ago  I  should  expect  to  find  him." 

An  old  man  stood  leaning  on  his  cane  at  the 
end  of  the  corridor.  He  seemed  quite  feeble,  and 
the  jailer,  moved  to  compassion  by  his  infirmity, 
placed  a  stool  for  him  to  sit  upon. 

"  My  nephew !  "  exclaimed  the  old  man  in  trem 
ulous  accents  as  Tournay  made  his  appearance. 

Apparently  the  old  man  had  made  some  mis 
take.  To  Colonel  Tournay's  eyes  he  was  an  entire 
stranger ;  but  being  aware  that  the  slightest  sus 
picion  aroused  in  the  mind  of  the  prison  authori- 


282  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

ties  sometimes  led  to  very  serious  consequences, 
he  determined  to  wait  until  the  turnkey  was  out 
of  hearing  before  undeceiving  the  mild-eyed  old 
gentleman. 

"  My  uncle,"  he  answered,  taking  the  venerable 
citizen  by  the  outstretched  hand,  "  how  did  your 
old  legs  manage  to  "  — 

The  septuagenarian  squeezed  the  colonel's  hand 
until  the  fingers  cracked. 

"  My  old  legs  would  have  brought  me  here  long 
before,"  said  the  voice  of  Gaillard  in  guarded 
tones,  "  but  it  took  me  two  weeks  to  get  this  dis 
guise  ! " 

"  Gaillard !  In  heaven's  name  can  it  be  you  ?  " 

"  'T  is  I !  I  may  have  aged  since  we  last  met, 
my  colonel,  but  my  heart  is  as  young  as  ever." 

"  My  dear  Gaillard,  how  did  you  manage  to 
leave  this  prison  ?  What  are  you  doing  ?  Is  this 
not  dangerous?"  asked  Tournay,  putting  the 
questions  in  rapid  succession. 

"  Gaillard's  liberty  would  not  be  worth  a  brass 
button  if  he  should  come  here,"  replied  the  actor, 
"  but  old  Michelet  has  nothing  to  fear.  I  have 
been  playing  hide  and  seek  with  the  police  for  the 
past  fortnight.  I  am  now  living  at  15  Rue  des 
Mathurins." 

Even  Tournay,  who  knew  his  friend  so  well, 
started. 

"It  is  a  very  long  story,  and  I  can  only  give 
you  an  outline  of  it,"  said  Gaillard,  seating  him 
self  on  the  stool  and  leaning  heavily  on  his  cane, 
while  he  turned  his  face  so  that  he  could  see  from 


UNCLE  MICHELET  283 

one  corner  of  his  eye  every  motion  the  turnkey 
might  make. 

"  I  escaped  from  my  dungeon  below  the  ground ; 
I  will  tell  you  how  when  we  have  more  leisure. 
The  first  thing  I  thought  of,  when  I  was  once  out 
in  the  free  air,  was  a  bath.  I  wanted  to  drown 
out  the  recollection  of  assassins  and  dirty  straw, 
vile  air  and  counterfeiters  with  whom  I  had  been 
on  such  intimate  terms  for  so  many  weeks. 

"  I  was  afraid  to  go  to  any  bath  houses  lest  I 
should  be  seen  and  recognized ;  besides,  I  had  no 
money,  so  I  finally  concluded  to  try  the  river.  I 
therefore  skulked  in  unfrequented  byways  until 
nightfall,  when  I  went  swimming  in  the  Seine 
by  starlight,  and  I  can  assure  you  I  never  before 
appreciated  the  kindly  properties  of  water  to  such 
an  extent.  My  next  desire,  after  I  had  slept  in 
the  arches  of  the  bridge  St.  Michel  and  broken 
my  fast  with  a  crisp  roll,  was  to  see  you." 

"  My  dear  old  uncle ! "  exclaimed  Tournay 
aloud,  placing  his  hand  affectionately  on  Gail- 
lard's  shoulder. 

"  I  knew  that  I  should  be  safe  if  I  could  procure 
a  good  disguise,  but  that  it  would  be  folly  to  at 
tempt  it  without  one,"  continued  Gaillard.  "  The 
want  of  money  was  still  an  obstacle.  '  Among  the 
costumes  in  my  chest  at  home,'  thought  I,  '  is  ma 
terial  to  disguise  a  whole  race  of  Gaillards.'  Ah, 
but  how  to  reach  them  ?  That  was  the  matter 
that  required  careful  study.  Those  annoying  little 
red  seals  that  the  government  places  on  the  doors 
of  all  arrested  persons  are  terribly  dangerous  to 


284  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

meddle  with.  Yet  within  were  clothing  and  dis 
guises,  and  a  very  little  sum  of  money  stowed 
away  for  an  emergency.  Meanwhile,  in  the  even 
ing,  I  promenaded  down  the  Rue  des  Mathurins  to 
look  the  ground  over.  There,  planted  in  front  of 
the  house,  staring  up  at  the  windows  of  our  apart 
ment,  was  a  great  hulking  gendarme. 

"  That  night  I  slept  again  under  the  St.  Michel 
bridge,  —  commodious  and  airy  enough,  but  a  little 
damp  in  the  morning  hours.  Before  daylight  I 
was  up  and  off  to  the  Rue  des  Mathurins,  drawn 
like  a  criminal  to  the  scene  of  his  misdeeds,  to 
inspect  the  enemy  unseen  by  him. 

"  There  is  a  certain  mouselike  gratification  in 
watching  from  afar  the  cat,  which,  with  claws  ex 
tended,  is  lying  in  wait,  ready  to  pounce  upon  you 
as  soon  as  you  show  your  nose."  And  Gaillard 
stopped  to  take  a  pinch  of  snuff  and  blink  at  the 
light  with  a  pair  of  mild  blue  eyes.  Then,  after 
applying  a  colored  handkerchief  to  his  nose,  he 
resumed  his  narrative. 

"  At  all  hours  of  the  day,  late  at  night,  or  early 
in  the  morning,  there  was  always  some  officer  of 
police  staring  persistently  at  my  windows  as  if  he 
expected  me,  furnished  with  a  pair  of  wings,  to 
come  flying  in  or  out  of  a  fourth  story.  '  Not  yet, 
my  fine  fellow,'  said  I,  and  vanished  around  the 
corner. 

"  One  night  it  rained  dismally;  a  cold  mist  was 
rising  from  the  river.  The  St.  Michel  bridge  had 
little  attraction  as  a  bedroom  for  me  at  that  mo 
ment,  I  can  assure  you.  Muffling  myself  in  my 


UNCLE  MICHELET  285 

cloak,  I  directed  my  steps  toward  my  old  abode, 
hoping  that  owing  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather 
the  officers  of  the  law  might  be  less  vigilant.  For 
I  had  resolved,  the  opportunity  offering,  to  make 
an  attempt  to  enter  my  own  domicile  that  very 
night.  Imagine  my  disgust  when,  upon  arriving,  I 
saw  two  gendarmes  sheltered  in  the  entrance  of 
the  house  opposite.  Both  of  them  were  obtrusively 
wide-awake  and  alert. 

"I  do  not  know  whether  one  of  them  noticed 
me,  lurking  by  the  corner,  but  he  immediately 
started  to  walk  in  my  direction,  and  not  wishing 
to  run  any  chances  I  darted  into  an  alley  blacker 
than  a  whole  calendar  of  nights,  scaled  a  wall, 
and  found  myself  in  the  narrow  court  which  flanks 
our  own  building.  Here  I  resolved  to  wait  until  I 
could  safely  venture  out  upon  the  street  once  more. 

"  The  rain  had  almost  ceased,  but  I  could  still 
hear  the  gurgle  of  the  water  coming  down  the  spout 
from  the  roof.  You  know  that  water  spout,  my 
little  colonel?  It  is  made  to  carry  off  the  water 
from  three  houses,  is  unusually  large,  and  is  held 
firmly  in  place  a  few  inches  from  the  house  wall 
by  iron  braces  at  intervals  of  five  to  six  feet.  I 
placed  my  hand  on  one  of  these  braces,  and  in 
stantly  the  thought  flashed  through  my  brain,  '  It 
can  be  done.'  " 

"  You  are  not  going  to  tell  me  that  you  at 
tempted  to  climb  up  by  the  water  pipe?"  de 
manded  Tournay  incredulously. 

"  I  divested  myself  of  my  cloak,  coat,  and  waist 
coat,  removed  my  heavy,  rain-soaked  shoes,  and 


286  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

began  the  ascent  as  bravely  as  any  seaman  ordered 
to  the  foretop,"  replied  Gaillard. 

"  I  could  reach  the  brace  above  while  standing 
on  the  one  beneath,  and  partly  using  my  knees 
and  partly  drawing  myself  up  by  the  arms,  I  made 
quicker  progress  than  I  had  deemed  possible.  In 
fact,  I  went  up  so  vigorously  that  on  reaching  the 
third  story  I  struck  my  knee  against  a  piece  of 
loose  stucco  which  was  clinging  to  the  wall,  wait 
ing  for  the  first  strong  wind  to  blow  it  to  the 
ground. 

"  Crash !  the  plaster  fell  to  the  courtyard  pave 
ment,  where  it  was  shivered  into  a  thousand  frag 
ments. 

"  The  blow  on  my  kneecap  made  me  shiver  with 
pain,  and  I  rested  on  the  brace  just  outside  the 
window  of  the  little  soubrette,  clinging  tightly  with 
both  hands  to  the  spout. 

"  4  Thank  heaven  that  it  was  the  stucco  that  fell, 
not  I,'  I  whispered  devoutly,  just  as  a  window 
opened  on  the  floor  above,  and  our  old  neighbor 
Avarie  appeared.  He  is  always  on  the  lookout 
for  robbers,  and  keeps  at  his  bedside  a  big  blun 
derbuss,  with  a  muzzle  like  a  speaking-trumpet. 

" '  Thieves/  I  heard  him  mutter.  I  kept  per 
fectly  quiet,  not  giving  vent  even  to  a  breath. 

" '  Who  's  there  ?  ' 

"I  clung  close  to  the  shelter  of  my  friendly 
water  pipe. 

"  «  Speak,  or  I  '11  fire  ! ' 

"  I  knew  he  could  not  see  me,  and  if  he  did  fire 
his  old  cannon,  I  felt  sure  that  it  would  explode  and 


UNCLE   MICHELET  287 

blow  him  into  atoms  ;  but  the  noise  would  alarm 
the  neighborhood,  and  I  had  a  vision  of  a  score  of 
lights  flashing;  night-capped  heads  appearing  in 
all  the  surrounding  windows ;  gendarmes  running 
up  with  their  lanterns,  and  poor  Gaillard,  clinging 
like  a  frightened  cat  to  the  water  spout. 

"  That  gave  me  an  idea. 

"  ;  Miauw  ! '  answered  I  plaintively. 

"  '  It 's  a  cat ! '  exclaimed  old  Avarie  in  a  tone 
of  disgust. 

"  '  Mew  —  mew  —  mew,'  cried  I. 

" '  What  is  it  ? '  said  a  woman's  voice,  evidently 
his  wife's. 

"  4  Nothing  but  a  cat,'  growled  Avarie.  '  But  I 
think  I  will  let  drive  at  her  just  because  she  dis 
turbed  my  sleep.' 

"  I  stopped  my  mewing  on  the  instant. 

"  4  Don't,'  pleaded  the  woman,  '  the  gun  may 
kick.' 

" '  Bah,  do  you  think  I  can't  handle  a  gun  ? ' 
And  I  heard  a  click. 

" '  Good-by  to  thee,  old  Avarie,'  I  said  under 
my  breath. 

"  '  Don't  be  a  fool,  husband,  and  awake  the 
whole  neighborhood  just  for  a  cat! '  exclaimed  his 
wife. 

"  Almost  at  my  window  another  window  was 
thrown  open  and  the  little  soubrette's  head  ap 
peared.  She  is  very  fond  of  cats. 

"  '  Here  puss,  puss,  puss,'  she  cried. 

" '  Is  that  your  cat,  citizeness? '  asked  old  Avarie. 

"  *  It  must  be ;  he  has  stayed  out  all  night,  the 


288  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

naughty  fellow.  Kitty,  kitty,  poor  kitty,  come  in 
out  of  the  wet.' 

"  My  teeth  were  chattering  with  cold  and  fatigue 
and  that  was  just  what  I  most  desired,  but  I  did 
not  dare  to  risk  it. 

" 4  You  ought  to  keep  the  animal  at  home,  and 
not  let  him  out  to  disturb  everybody's  sleep,' 
called  out  the  testy  old  man  as  he  closed  his  win 
dow  with  a  bang. 

"  Luckily  for  me  the  little  soubrette's  attention 
was  all  directed  toward  the  roof  of  the  lower  ex 
tension  on  the  left  where  her  pet  evidently  had  a 
habit  of  straying.  She  did  not  see  me,  crouched 
behind  the  pipe  so  near  as  to  almost  be  able  to 
touch  her  by  putting  out  one  hand.  By  the  way, 
she  looked  very  pretty  in  her  little  white  nightcap 
edged  with  lace.  I  was  not  very  sorry,  however,  to 
see  her  close  the  window  and  to  be  left  alone  with 
my  water  spout.  A  few  minutes  later  I  had  pushed 
open  the  window  of  my  kitchen  and  wriggled  into 
the  room. 

"  I  dared  not  strike  a  light  for  fear  of  its  reflec 
tion  on  the  wall  opposite,  and  groped  my  way  about 
the  room  in  the  dark.  My  heart  leaped  with  joy 
when  I  had  assured  myself  that  no  seal  had  been 
placed  on  the  windows  nor  upon  any  of  the  inside 
doors;  the  one  seal  on  the  outer  door  evidently 
having  been  deemed  sufficient.  The  dust  was  an 
inch  thick  over  everything,  and  I  moved  about  in 
ghostly  stillness,  struggling  to  repress  a  sneeze. 
Nothing  appeared  to  have  been  touched  since  the 
night  of  my  enforced  departure. 


UNCLE  MICHELET  289 

"  I  hugged  myself  with  a  childish  glee  at  being 
alone  in  my  little  home  in  the  dead  of  night. 
The  thought  of  the  gendarmes  outside  in  the  rain 
made  my  sides  ache  with  suppressed  laughter. 

"  First,  I  unearthed  my  little  economies  of  last 
winter.  Thirteen  francs,  five  sous.  '  Gaillard 
you're  a  prodigal  fellow,'  I  said  to  myself  as  I 
dropped  them  into  my  pouch,  4  but  it  is  better 
than  nothing.'  Then  I  collected  a  few  necessities. 
My  beautiful  wig  of  silver  hair,  and  a  suitable 
dress  to  go  with  it.  I  handled  lovingly  a  few 
.other  costumes,  but  had  the  strength  of  mind  to 
return  them  to  the  chest.  I  should  like  to  have 
appeared  before  you  as  the  4  Spanish  outlaw '  but 
it  would  have  been  too  dangerous.  The  character 
of  the  English  4  milord  '  would  have  been  congen 
ial  but  equally  hazardous.  So  I  sensibly  adhered 
to  my  sober  selection,  and  tied  up  all  my  effects 
in  a  neat  bundle. 

"  When  all  was  completed  I  took  one  last,  long 
ing  survey  of  my  rooms,  went  to  the  casement, 
and,  dropping  the  bundle,  held  my  breath.  Thud ! 
it  reached  the  bottom  and  lay  there  innocently  in 
the  court.  Not  a  sound  was  heard.  Old  Citizen 
Avarie,  in  the  adjoining  apartment,  was  snoring  in 
a  way  that  would  put  his  blunderbuss  to  shame, 
and  the  little  citizeness  below  had  evidently  re 
tired  into  the  recess  of  her  lace-trimmed  nightcap 
to  dream  of  her  missing  pet. 

"  Sliding  silently  from  the  window  I  found  the 
iron  brace  with  my  toes,  and  grasped  the  clammy 
water  pipe  with  both  hands.  I  could  not  close  the 


290  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

casement.  '  Never  mind,  they  will  think  it  was 
the  wind  that  opened  it,'  I  said,  and  I  descended 
to  the  ground  with  an  agility  born  of  practice. 

"  In  the  early  morning  hours  I  retired  to  my 
bridge,  put  on  my  silver  wig  and  old  man's  dress, 
sunk  my  other  clothes  to  the  river  bottom,  and 
appeared  in  the  light  of  day  as  an  old  man. 

"  I  now  walk  the  streets  in  safety  under  the  very 
noses  of  my  old  enemies,  the  police  ;  I  come  to  you 
and  I  ask,  '  How  do  you  like  your  old  uncle  ?  ' ' 

"You  deceived  me  completely,  my  Gaillard," 
Tournay  confessed  ;  "  but  tell  me  this.  You  said 
you  were  still  residing  at  15  Kue  des  Mathurins. 
May  I  ask  in  what  capacity  ?  As  cat  ?  " 

"  Having  little  money,  I  must  earn  some  more 
in  order  to  live.  I  went  to  my  dear  friend,  the 
theatre  director,  just  as  I  am,  and  asked  him  to 
employ  me  about  the  theatre  in  any  capacity.  He 
did  not  recognize  me,  and  putting  his  hand  in 
his  pocket,  brought  out  a  piefce  of  forty  sous." 

" '  Sorry,  my  poor  fellow,  but  I  have  no  place 
for  you.  Take  this.'  " 

"  I  would  trust  my  manager  with  my  life,  so  I 
leaned  forward  to  his  ear.  '  I  am  Gaillard, 
hunted,  proscribed,  but  always  your  old  friend 
Gaillard.  Call  me  Citizen  Michelet.'  He  gave 
me  a  look  for  which  I  could  have  taken  him  to  my 
heart,  there  in  his  bureau,  and  hugged  him. 

"  '  Citizen  Michelet,'  he  said,  '  there  is  a  place 
of  a  doorkeeper  which  you  can  have.  The  pay  is 
small,  fifteen  francs  the  week,  but  it  may  suffice 
your  needs.'  I  knew  it  was  five  francs  more  than 


UNCLE  MICHELET  291 

old  Gaspard  received,  —  the  doorkeeper  who  drank 
himself  to  death,  —  and  I  took  the  place  gladly. 
When  one  is  old,  my  nephew,  one  does  not  despise 
even  fifteen  francs,"  and  Gaillard  looked  patheti 
cally  into  Tournay's  face.  "  Now  I  sit  every  even 
ing  at  the  stage  door  of  the  theatre  and  see  the 
familiar  faces  pass  in  and  out.  They  do  not 
recognize  me ;  but  they  are  beginning  to  address 
kindly  nods  and  occasional  words  to  old  Michelet. 

"  I  found  a  vacant  room  to  let  on  the  ground 
floor  of  No.  15  Rue  des  Mathurins,  so  I  took  the 
lodging  and  live  there  quietly.  I  am  on  the  best 
of  terms  with  the  gendarmes,  and  I  talk  with  them 
out  of  my  window,  where  we  exchange  pinches  of 
snuff  and  other  like  civilities." 

"  My  dear  friend  "  —  began  Tournay. 

"  You  might  as  well  call  me  uncle,"  interrupted 
Gaillard,  "to  accustom  yourself  to  it,  for  under 
this  guise  I  shall  visit  you  again." 

"  My  dear  uncle,  it  is  like  a  draught  of  wine  to 
a  thirsty  man  to  hear  you  talk.  It  is  like  a  ray  of 
sunshine  to  see  your  wrinkled  old  face." 

"  I  hope  to  be  the  ray  of  sunshine  to  light  you 
out  of  this  prison,"  said  Gaillard. 

"  I  'm  afraid  that  will  be  a  difficult  matter," 
replied  Tournay.  "  I  am  not  so  clever  as  you  in 
wearing  disguises." 

"  You  will  wear  no  disguise,"  answered  Gail 
lard.  "  Are  you  in  a  cell  by  yourself  ?  "  he  asked 
in  the  next  breath. 

"  No,  strange  to  say  I  have  a  companion,  Citi 
zen  St.  Hilaire." 


292  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  That  is  not  so  bad  ;  only  we  shall  have  to  in 
clude  him  in  our  plans,"  replied  Gaillard.  "  You 
can  trust  him  ?  " 

"  Implicitly." 

"When  I  lean  forward  over  my  stick,"  said 
Gaillard,  "  run  your  hand  stealthily  up  the  back 
of  my  head  under  my  long  hair.  Now." 

Tournay  did  as  he  was  bid. 

"Do  you  feel  it?" 

"  I  feel  something  hard,  like  a  little  file." 

"  Good  !  You  could  not  expect  a  chest  of  tools ; 
the  jailer  searched  me  thoroughly.  Untie  that 
little  file  from  the  hair.  Can  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  so." 

"  I  tied  it  quite  firmly  for  fear  it  would  fall 
out.  Do  not  be  afraid  of  pulling  my  hair,  but  do 
not  pull  the  wig  off.  You  may  take  both  hands, 
—  the  turnkey  is  not  paying  any  attention,  —  as 
if  you  were  arranging  your  old  uncle's  coat  col 
lar." 

"  I  '11  have  it  in  a  moment.     There ! " 

"  Slip  this  up  your  sleeve,  my  colonel.  Now  a 
few  questions  and  remarks.  How  many  bars  has 
your  window  ?  " 

"  Four." 

"  How  long  will  it  take  you  to' file  them  all  ?  " 

Tournay  considered.  "  We  could  only  work  in 
any  safety  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  perhaps 
four  hours  in  the  twenty-four." 

"  How  long  do  you  think  it  will  take  you  to  cut 
through  the  four  bars  ?  " 

Tournay    thought   for   a   moment.     "  We   can 


UNCLE  MICHELET  293 

work  only  at  intervals  in  the  dead  of  night,"  he 
replied,  "  so  it  may  take  several  days." 

"  Good !    In  four  days  I  will  bring  you  a  rope." 

"  In  God's  name,  Gaillard,  how  can  you  man 
age  to  bring  a  rope  into  this  place  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  certain  of  that  point  yet,  but  I  shall 
manage  it,"  was  the  cool  rejoinder. 

"  My  dear  Gaillard,  I  believe  you.  If  you 
were  to  promise  me  to  bring  a  spire  of  Notre  Dame 
wrapped  up  in  gold  paper  I  should  expect  to  see  it 
at  the  appointed  hour.  With  a  rope  in  our  posses 
sion  and  the  bars  cut,  we  can  get  down  the  forty 
feet  to  the  yard  beneath.  But  there  is  the  sentry, 
and  the  difficulty  of  escape  from  the  yard !  " 

"  I  will  take  care  of  the  sentry  and  the  escape," 
replied  Gaillard,  "  and  in  four  days  I  shall  be  here 
again.  Meanwhile  cut  through  the  bars  so  that 
you  can  push  them  out  of  place  at  any  moment. 
Attention  ;  here  comes  the  turnkey. 

44  Good-by,  my  nephew.  Be  of  good  cheer.  A 
good  patriot  need  have  no  fear,"  said  Gaillard  in 
a  quavering  voice. 

44  Good-by,  my  uncle,"  rejoined  Tournay  as  he 
went  back  to  his  cell.  44 1  shall  see  you  then  next 
week  at  the  same  hour,"  he  called  out  through 
the  bars  of  the  door. 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  then,  good-by  again.  Mind  the  step.  Be 
careful  lest  my  uncle  trip,  citizen  turnkey ;  he  is 
old  and  rather  venturesome  for  one  of  his  years." 


CHAPTER  XXI 
CITIZENESS    PRIVAT 

"  AGATHA,"  said  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort, 
"  I  am  going  back  to  Paris." 

Agatha  turned  and  looked  at  her  mistress  in  the 
greatest  surprise. 

"Do  I  understand  you,  mademoiselle,  or  am  I 
dreaming  ?  It  is  impossible  that  you  could  have 
said"  — 

"  I  am  going  back  to  Paris." 

Edme  repeated  the  words  quietly,  but  there  was 
a  decision  in  her  manner  which  Agatha  under^ 
stood  full  well.  She  gave  a  gasp  of  consternation 
and  sank  into  a  chair,  fixing  her  wide-open  eyes 
upon  Edme's  face,  while  she  waited  to  hear  more. 

Edme  was  seated  in  her  bedroom  in  the  Castle 
of  Hagenhof.  It  was  evening,  and  two  candles, 
one  upon  the  dressing-table,  the  other  upon  a 
stand  at  Agatha's  side,  gave  to  the  room  a  mild 
half-light.  The  curtains  were  not  yet  drawn,  and 
through  the  large  casement  the  stars  gleamed  softly. 

"  During  the  five  months  we  have  lived  in  abso 
lute  quiet  and  security  here  at  Hagenhof,"  Edme 
continued,  looking  out  of  the  window  at  the  forest 
of  pine  trees  that  stretched  away  from  the  castle 
like  a  sea  of  ink,  "  we  have  been  completely  shut 


CJTIZENESS  PRIVAT  295 

off  from  the  world  outside,  hearing  almost  nothing 
of  the  events  taking  place  there." 

"  That  was  your  wish,  was  it  not  ?  "  asked  Aga 
tha  as  Edme  paused. 

Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  did  not  make  any 
direct  reply,  but  continued  speaking  as  if  she  was 
answering  her  own  thoughts,  rather  than  convers 
ing  with  her  maid. 

"  There  was  a  great  battle  fought.  It  was  a 
full  month  afterward  that  I  heard  of  it  and  of  the 
glory  won  by  Colonel  Tournay.  The  Republicans 
were  victorious.  Had  they  been  defeated,  the 
restoration  of  the  Monarchy  would  have  been  one 
step  nearer.  But  the  allies  were  defeated,  their 
finest  troops  were  sent  flying  back  before  the  raw 
recruits.  And  I !  Did  I  mourn  the  defeat  of  our 
allies  as  much  as  I  rejoiced  in  Colonel  Tournay's 
triumph  ?  The  hero  of  Landau  !  That  is  what 
he  was  called." 

Then,  turning  toward  Agatha,  she  exclaimed: 
"  How  do  you  think  they  have  rewarded  him  in 
France  ?  They  have  thrown  this  hero  into  prison. 
They  have  kept  him  there  for  months.  And  I 
heard  of  it  only  to-night  from  the  officers  who 
returned  with  Colonel  von  Waldenmeer  yesterday. 
They  spoke  of  affairs  in  France.  They  said  that 
the  Republic  is  approaching  its  final  doom.  The 
leaders  are  now  at  discord.  The  terrible  Danton 
has  been  sent  to  the  guillotine.  They  said  that 
the  officers  of  the  army  are  being  suspected ;  men 
tioned  Colonel  Tournay's  arrest,  and  then  casually 
passed  on  to  other  topics.  I  heard  no  more.  I 


296  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

could  not  listen  after  that,  and  came  up  here  as 
soon  as  I  could  withdraw  from  the  table.  Agatha, 
I  am  going  back  to  France." 

"  Why  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  Agatha  gently, 
fearing  to  antagonize  her  mistress  in  her  present 
mood. 

Again  Edme  looked  out  of  the  window  at  the 
swaying  tops  of  the  mournful  pines.  "  I  cannot 
stay  here,"  she  answered  fiercely.  "The  melan 
choly  of  the  place  is  killing  me." 

"  Do  not  be  a  child,  mademoiselle,"  said  Agatha 
in  the  tone  of  authority  she  sometimes  employed 
in  reasoning  with  her  beloved  mistress.  "  If  you 
are  not  happy  here,  we  will  leave.  Perhaps  we 
can  go  to  Berlin,  or  to  London.  But  never  to 
France!" 

"Twice  has  he  risked  his  life  for  me,"  said 
Edme,  again  speaking  to  herself.  "  I  owe  so  much 
to  him,  and  have  repaid  him  nothing." 

"  All  that  is  true,"  persisted  the  cool-headed 
Agatha.  "  He  aided  you  because  he  had  the 
power ;  if  you  could  serve  him,  it  would  be  dif 
ferent.  But  you  can  do  nothing.  If  you  go  to 
Paris,  you  will  be  arrested  and  guillotined.  That 
is  all.  No,  my  dear  mistress,  you  must  not  go." 

"  I  shall  go,"  answered  Edm^  firmly.  "  If  I 
am  apprehended,  so  much  the  worse." 

"  You  will  only  place  yourself  in  peril,"  cried 
Agatha.  "  You  must  not  go !  " 

"  When  Colonel  Tournay  parted  from  me," 
said  Edme  impressively,  "  he  swore  that  we  should 
some  day  meet  again.  He  would  keep  his  word  if 


CITIZENESS  PRIVAT  297 

it  were  possible.  Fate  has  decreed  that  he  shall 
not  come  to  me ;  she  decrees,  instead,  that  I  shall 
gp  to  him." 

"  Mademoiselle,"  cried  Agatha  in  a  horrified 
tone,  "  what  are  you  saying  ?  Think  of  your  rank, 
think  of  your  family,  your  pride  of  birth ! ' 

"  My  rank !  "  laughed  Edme  scornfully.  "  Did 
that  avail  me  when  I  crossed  the  river  Loire  ?  My 
pride  of  birth!  Did  that  protect  and  bring  me 
safely  out  of  France?  A  brave  and  loyal  man 
was  my  sole  protection.  He  is  now  in  the  greatest 
danger.  I  am  going  to  him." 

There  was  a  ring  in  her  voice  as  she  spoke  that 
seemed  to  bid  defiance  to  the  long  line  of  ancestry 
behind  her. 

"  Now  that  you  know  that  I  am  not  to  be  swayed 
from  my  determination,  will  you  go  with  me  or 
remain  here  ?  " 

44 1  shall  go  with  you,  mademoiselle." 

"  We  must  leave  here  clandestinely,  Agatha.  I 
little  thought,  when  the  kindly  Grafin  von  Wal- 
denmeer  took  me  under  her  roof,  I  should  leave  it 
like  this." 

44  We  shall  have  to  travel  through  France  in  the 
disguise  of  peasants,  mademoiselle,"  said  Agatha. 

44  We  have  had  some  experience  in  that  disguise, 
Agatha.  You  know  how  well  I  shall  be  able  to 
play  my  part." 

From  Hagenhof,  starting  at  dead  of  night,  the 
two  women  traveled  to  Paris.  It  took  them  three 
weeks  to  make  the  journey  that  they  had  once 
made  in  five  days.  But  they  were  obliged  to 


298  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

travel  slowly,  as  became  two  women  of  their 
class. 

On  the  morning  of  the  twentieth  day  they  found 
themselves  in  the  Rue  Vaugirard  in  Paris,  almost 
under  the  very  shadow  of  the  Luxembourg. 
Agatha  stopped  before  the  doorway  of  a  small 
house  in  the  window  of  which  a  placard  announced 
that  lodgings  were  to  let  within. 

"  This  is  what  we  want,  mademoiselle,"  said  the 
girl.  "  I  will  knock  here." 

A  woman  answered  the  summons.  She  was 
about  forty  years  old,  with  stooping  shoulders,  and 
hands  gnarled  and  twisted  by  hard  work.  Her 
skin  was  dark,  but  an  unhealthy  pallor  was  upon 
her  face,  which,  thin  and  worn,  was  lightened  by  a 
pair  of  brilliant  eyes. 

"  Can  we  obtain  lodging  here,  good  citizeness  ?*' 
inquired  Agatha.  The  woman  did  not  reply  at 
once,  being  busy  looking  at  them  closely  with  her 
bright  eyes. 

"  Have  you  any  lodgings  to  let  ?  "  said  Agatha 
once  more. 

"  Perhaps,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Perhaps,"  repeated  Edme  somewhat  impa 
tiently.  "  Do  you  not  know  ?  " 

"  I  am  Citizeness  Privat,"  the  woman  answered. 
"  There  are  lodgings  to  let  in  this  house,  most  as 
suredly,  and  I  have  charge  of  the  renting  of  them  ; 
but  I  act  for  another,  and  he,"  with  emphasis  on 
the  pronoun,  "  insists  that  I  shall  only  take  those 
who  can  furnish  references.  Can  you  do  so  ?  " 

"  Let  us  come  inside  and  we  will  see  what  can 


CITIZENESS  PRIVAT  299 

be  done,"  said  Agatha,  pushing  forward.  The 
woman  stepped  back,  and  Ed  me  followed  Agatha 
into  the  house.  Agatha  closed  the  door  before 
speaking. 

"  Citizeness  Privat,"  she  said,  "  we  are  two  wo 
men  from  the  country,  who  have  come  to  Paris  for 
the  first  time.  We  know  no  one  here,  and  can 
give  you  no  references  except  money.  Will  that 
not  satisfy  you  ?  "  And  Agatha  drew  a  purse 
from  her  pocket. 

"  It  will  satisfy  me,  but  not  him  who  employs 
me.  If  I  disobey  him  I  may  lose  this  place 
which  is  my  only  shelter."  Edme  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  neat  sitting-room  through  a  half -open 
door.  The  cool  and  quiet  of  the  house  were  doubly 
attractive  after  the  noise  and  heat  of  the  city 
streets. 

"  We  must  stay  here,"  she  whispered  to  Agatha. 
The  latter  opened  her  purse. 

"  We  will  pay  you  well,"  she  said  persuasively. 
The  citizeness  shook  her  head  mournfully,  and  put 
one  hand  upon  the  handle  of  the  door. 

"  Stay  one  moment,  I  implore  you !  "  exclaimed 
Edm£  impulsively.  "  Listen  to  what  I  have  to 
say." 

The  citizeness  turned  her  strange  eyes  upon 
Edme*.  The  latter  started  as  she  beheld  the  ex 
pression  on  the  pale  face. 

"  Agatha  !  look  !  "  Edme  cried  out  in  alarm,  and 
the  next  instant  the  Citizeness  Privat  had  fallen  to 
the  floor.  Quickly  Edme  bent  over  her.  "  She 
has  fainted.  How  cold  her  hands  are  !  Look  at 


300  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

her  face.  It  is  ghastly.  It  cannot  be  that  she  is 
dead,  Agatha  ?  "  Edme  continued  in  a  tone  of  awe. 

Agatha  took  one  hand  and  began  to  chafe  it 
to  restore  the  circulation  while  Edme  rubbed  the 
other.  "  She  is  breathing,"  said  Agatha.  "  Per 
haps  with  your  assistance,  mademoiselle,  we  can 
lift  and  carry  her  into  one  of  the  rooms." 

Between  them  the  Citizeness  Privat  was  carried 
gently  into  her  room  and  placed  upon  a  bed.  To 
their  intense  relief,  the  woman  gave  a  sigh,  and 
opened  her  eyes  as  she  sank  back  on  the  pillows. 

"  Are  you  in  great  suffering,  poor  creature  ?  " 
asked  Edme,  compassionately  surveying  the  pale 
features.  Citizeness  Privat  signed  that  she  was 
not  in  any  pain,  and  after  a  few  moments,  during 
which  her  breath  came  regularly,  she  said  faintly: — 

"  I  shall  be  better  soon  ;  I  am  used  to  these  at 
tacks  of  sudden  giddiness.  My  greatest  fear  is 
that  they  may  seize  me  some  day  while  I  am  in 
the  streets.  For  that  reason  I  dread  to  go  out 
alone." 

"  Let  us  remove  her  clothing  and  put  her  in  the 
bed  where  she  will  be  more  comfortable,"  sug 
gested  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort,  and  in  spite  of 
the  feeble  remonstrances  of  the  sick  woman  they 
soon  had  her  comfortably  installed  between  the 
sheets. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  she  murmured. 

As  Agatha  removed  the  gown  a  card  fell  from 
the  pocket  to  the  floor. 

"I  shall  be  unable  to  attend  to  my  task  this 
evening,"  sighed  the  woman  Privat,  as  if  the  flut- 


CITIZENESS  PRIVAT  301 

tering  pasteboard  recalled  to  mind  some  urgent 
duty.  "  I  can  ill  afford  to  let  the  work  go  either. 
It  helps  so  much  towards  my  support,  but  to-day 
it  will  be  impossible." 

Edme  picked  up  the  card,  and  in  doing  so 
glanced  at  it  casually,  then  read  it  with  a  start :  — 

FRENCH   REVOLUTIONARY  TRIBUNAL. 

Permit  the  Citizeness  Jeanne  Privat  to  enter 
the  various  rooms  of  the  tribunal  when  engaged 
upon  her  routine  duties. 

The  Citizeness  Privat  smiled  faintly.  "'I  see 
you  wonder  what  I  have  to  do  with  the  tribunal," 
she  said ;  "I  merely  go  there  in  the  afternoon  at 
dark  and  clean  up  the  rooms.  There  are  many  of 
them,  and  as  I  am  the  only  person  employed  to 
look  after  them,  they  get  into  a  dreadful  state  of 
disorder  and  dirt."  Here  the  citizeness  was  taken 
with  a  fit  of  coughing. 

Edme  thrust  the  card  mechanically  into  her 
pocket,  and  ran  to  fetch  a  glass  of  water. 

"  You  are  very  good  to  me,"  said  she  faintly  as 
soon  as  she  could  speak.  "  I  turned  you  away,"  a 
slight  flush  coming  to  her  cheek.  "  Believe  me,  it 
was  not  my  heart  that  spoke  when  I  told  you  that 
I  could  not  let  you  have  the  lodging ;  I  was  merely 
obeying  the  commands  of  the  owner,  who  allows 
me  my  bare  rent  for  my  services.  He  is  very 
strict,  but  at  the  risk  of  incurring  his  displeasure, 
I  shall  refuse  to  let  you  go  after  this  kindness." 

"  Do  not  fear ;  do  not  trouble  about  that,"  re- 


302  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

plied  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  quietly, "  but  tell 
me  more  about  your  work  in  the  tribunal.  Is  it 
that  which  has  worn  you  so  ?  " 

"  No,  it  is  not  so  wearing,  only  I  am  far  from 
strong,  and  sometimes  I  get  so  fatigued.  My 
brother,  who  is  a  turnkey  in  the  conciergerie,  ob 
tained  this  employment  for  me,  as  it  was  thought 
I  could  do  it ;  but  I  fear  I  shall  have  to  give  it 
up." 

Edme  smoothed  the  counterpane.  "  Do  not 
worry,"  she  said  gently,  "but  go  to  sleep  now. 
We  will  remain  here  until  you  are  better." 

The  citizeness  smiled  faintly,  her  lips  moved  as 
if  in  apology  ;  then  she  fell  into  a  quiet  sleep. 

Agatha  turned  to  her  mistress. 

"  Go  into  the  next  room,  mademoiselle,  and  rest 
there.  I  will  watch  over  this  sick  woman." 

"  I  cannot  rest,  dear  Agatha  ;  I  have  something 
else  to  do,  but  you  must  stay  here  until  I  return." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  To  the  Luxembourg." 

"  Not  now,  mademoiselle  ;  wait  —  I  will  accom 
pany  you." 

"  No,  Agatha,  I  prefer  to  go  alone ;  you  must 
remain  here  until  I  come  back,"  commanded 
Edme. 

Agatha  knew  it  would  be  useless  for  her  to  re 
monstrate  further,  so  she  resumed  her  place  by  the 
bedside,  and  with  the  greatest  anxiety  saw  her 
mistress  leave  the  house,  and,  passing  by  the  win 
dow,  disappear  up  the  street. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
CITIZENESS  PKIVAT'S  CARD 

"  How  does  one  obtain  admission  to  visit  a  pris 
oner,  citizen  doorkeeper  ?  " 

"  How  does  one  obtain  permission  ?  "  repeated 
the  keeper  without  looking  up  from  the  work  with 
which  he  was  occupied.  "  One  waits  in  that  room," 
and  he  gave  a  wave  of  the  pen,  "  until  the  proper 
hour,  then  if  one  passes  satisfactorily  under  the 
inspection  of  the  chief  prison-keeper  and  every 
thing  appears  to  be  quite  regular,  one  is  allowed 
to  see  and  converse  with  the  prisoner  for  a  short 
time." 

"I  wish  to  see  some  one  here.  Pray  tell  me 
where  I  shall  find  the  chief  keeper  ?  " 

"  I  am  he,"  replied  the  keeper,  pausing  as  he 
dipped  his  pen  in  the  ink,  and  looking  over  the 
top  of  his  desk  saw  a  woman  neatly  but  simply 
dressed,  as  became  a  citizeness  of  the  Republic. 
The  outlines  of  her  features  were  partly  hidden  by 
the  hood  of  a  gray  cloak  drawn  up  about  her  head, 
but  the  shadows  cast  by  this  garment  were  not 
deep  enough  to  hide  altogether  the  beauty  of  the 
oval  face  beneath  it. 

u  Whom  do  you  wish  to  see  ? "  he  asked,  evi 
dently  satisfied  with  his  inspection,  for  he  dipped 


304  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

his  pen  in  the  ink-bottle  and  resumed  his  work  of 
ruling  perpendicular  lines  in  a  ledger. 

"  I  wish  to  see  the  prisoner,  Robert  Tournay." 

The  jailer  put  down  his  ruler.  "  That  is  impos 
sible  ;  the  prisoner  Tournay  is  not  here." 

"  Not  here  !  Then  he  has  been  set  at  liberty  !  " 
The  cry  of  joy  that  sprang  to  her  lips  checked 
itself,  frozen  by  the  quick  negative  gesture  on  the 
keeper's  part.  She  placed  one  hand  upon  the  iron 
rail  before  her  and  closed  her  fingers  tightly  around 
it.  "  He  is  not  —  Do  not  tell  me  he  is  dead  !  " 
she  whispered,  looking  up  at  the  inexpressive  face 
with  a  pleading  expression  in  her  eyes,  as  if  the 
jailer  were  the  arbiter  of  Tournay's  fate. 

"  Transferred  to  the  conciergerie.  You  may 
see  for  yourself,  citizeness,"  and  he  held  up  the 
book  and  pointed  with  his  forefinger  to  the  nota 
tion  upon  the  neatly  ruled  page,  "  4  Trans,  to  C.' 
That  means  that  Robert  Tournay,  former  colonel 
in  the  army  of  the  Republic,  was  yesterday  trans 
ferred  to  the  prison  of  the  conciergerie." 

Edme's  heart  grew  cold.  She  had  no  means  of 
knowing  the  full  purport  of  the  change,  but  she  felt 
that  it  boded  nothing  but  ill  to  Robert  Tournay. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  why  this  removal  was  made  ?  " 
she  asked,  although  fearing  to  hear  the  answer. 

"  To  facilitate  his  trial.  As  every  one  knows 
the  Revolutionary  Tribunal  is  in  the  same  building 
with  the  conciergerie.  A  prisoner  may  be  brought 
from  his  cell  in  the  prison  into  the  tribunal  cham 
ber,  be  tried,  sentenced,  and  returned  to  his  dun 
geon  without  once  being  obliged  to  go  outside. 


CITIZENESS  PRIVAT'S  CARD  305 

He  only  passes  out  into  the  streets  on  his  way  to 
the  guillotine." 

"  Has  the  trial  already  taken  place  ?  Can  I  see 
him  if  I  go  there  at  once?"  she  demanded  hur 
riedly. 

As  the  jailer  saw  the  young  woman's  evident  dis 
tress  his  voice  softened  a  little  as  he  made  reply : 
"That  you  may  be  prepared  for  another  disap 
pointment,  I  tell  you  now,  that  in  order  to  visit 
him  in  the  conciergerie,  you  will  have  to  be  fur 
nished  with  a  written  permit  from  some  member 
of  the  committee.  Robert  Tournay  is  confined  '  in 
secret.'  " 

"  Thank  you,  citizen  jailer,"  was  the  faint  reply. 
As  Edme  turned  and  left  the  prison  lodge,  the 
custodian  of  the  Luxembourg  bent  over  his  work 
again.  The  book  was  already  filled  with  lists  of 
names,  written  evenly  in  long  columns.  This  book 
was  the  record  of  all  the  prisoners  of  the  Luxem 
bourg.  When  one  left  the  prison  his  departure 
was  duly  noted  in  the  space  opposite  his  name. 
His  transfer  to  another  jail  was  indicated  by  the 
abbreviation  "trans."  If  he  was  summoned  be 
fore  the  tribunal  and  acquitted,  this  fact  was 
chronicled  by  the  letters  "  acq."  If  he  was  sen 
tenced  to  death  by  the  guillotine,  the  jailer  marked 
him  with  a  little  black  cross  "  X."  He  had  once 
been  a  schoolmaster,  and  it  was  his  pride  to 
keep  his  prison  records  with  neatness  and  accu 
racy. 

"  Nevertheless,  I  am  going  to  the  conciergerie," 
said  Edme  to  herself  as  she  passed  along  the  Rue 


306  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Vaugirard ;  "  to  the  conciergerie,"  she  repeated. 
She  stopped  abruptly  in  the  street  as  the  remem 
brance  of  the  Citizeness  Privat  came  to  her  mind. 
Putting  her  hand  into  her  pocket,  she  drew  out 
the  card.  "  '  Permit  the  Citizeness  Privat  to  enter 
the  rooms  of  the  tribunal.'  I  will  be  Madame 
Privat  to-night "  was  Edme's  resolution.  "  Once 
in  the  tribunal  chamber,  I  shall  at  least  be  very 
near  the  prison." 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  she  reached 
the  Quai  de  1'Horloge  that  skirted  the  frowning 
walls  of  the  formidable  prison.  She  passed  the 
iron  grating  of  the  yard,  and  looking  in,  wondered 
why  some  sparrows  which  were  twittering  and 
fighting  on  the  pavement  beneath  an  unhealthy 
looking  tree  should  remain  for  a  moment  in  a 
prison  yard  when  they  had  the  whole  outside  world 
to  fly  in.  Her  pace,  which  had  been  a  rapid  one 
all  the  way  from  the  Luxembourg,  slackened  as 
she  approached  the  main  entrance,  and  her  fingers 
closed  tightly  on  the  card  in  her  pocket,  while  the 
heart  beneath  the  gray  cloak  beat  rapidly. 

She  did  not  know  where  to  find  the  tribunal 
chamber.  She  had  never  been  in  that  part  of 
Paris  before.  She  only  knew  that  somewhere  in 
that  pile  of  gray  stone  were  the  old  Parliament 
rooms,  at  present  converted  into  the  tribunal  cham 
bers  of  the  Republic.  Once  in  those  rooms  she 
would  be  under  the  same  roof  with  Eobert  Tour- 
nay.  Passing  along  the  prison  wall,  she  turned 
up  the  Rue  Barillerie,  and  there  saw  the  words 
"  Revolutionary  Tribunal,"  in  large  letters  over  a 


CITIZENESS  PRIVAT'S  CARD  307 

doorway.  Here  was  the  place  to  begin  the  role  of 
the  Citizeness  Privat. 

The  June  evening  was  warm,  and  the  air  in  the 
street  fetid,  as  if  it  were  poisoned  by  the  prison 
atmosphere ;  yet  with  a  quick  movement  of  the 
hand  she  pulled  the  hood  closer  about  her  face, 
and  rapidly  ascended  the  stone  staircase. 

A  porter  sitting  by  the  doorway  looked  at  her 
with  indifferent  gaze,  but  said  nothing  as  she 
showed  him  the  permit.  She  passed  into  the  large 
hall  with  a  strange  feeling,  as  if  she  were  no 
longer  Edme  de  Rochefort. 

From  the  information  she  had  received  Edme 
knew  that  there  was  some  means  of  communica 
tion  between  this  hall  and  the  prison.  This  com 
munication  she  must  discover,  but  she  resolved  to 
set  about  the  task  coolly  and  carefully  in  order 
that  she  might  not  arouse  suspicion  in  the  minds 
of  any  chance  observer. 

She  imagined  that  she  heard  footsteps  in  a  cor 
ridor  on  the  other  side  of  the  chamber,  and  this 
reminded  her  forcibly  that  she  must  play  the  part 
of  the  Citizeness  Privat.  She  gave  a  glance 
around  the  room,  wondering  how  the  worthy  citi- 
zeness  did  her  work.  The  room  certainly  was 
dirty  and  needed  a  good  deal  of  cleaning.  Bits 
of  paper  littered  the  floor  and  were  scattered  about 
upon  the  desks.  Upon  a  set  of  shelves,  some 
books  and  pamphlets  were  buried  so  deeply  in 
dust  that  Edme  began  to  think  the  Citizeness 
Privat  had  been  somewhat  lax  in  the  performance 
of  her  duty.  After  a  short  investigation  she  dis- 


308  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

covered  a  broom  in  an  anteroom  ;  and  armed  with 
this  she  returned  to  the  hall  and  began  to  sweep 
into  a  heap  the  scraps  of  paper  that  littered  the 
floor.  This  work  soon  began  to  fatigue  her,  and 
it  also  rolled  up  billows  of  dust  which  settled  down 
over  chairs  and  tables.  She  placed  the  broom  in 
a  corner,  and  looked  about  for  some  easier  work 
which  would  serve  her  turn  as  well. 

She  espied  a  green  cloth  protruding  from  the 
edge  of  a  table  drawer.  Opening  the  drawer  she 
put  in  her  hand  and  was  surprised  to  find  that  the 
innocent  cloth  encased  a  large  pistol.  She  re 
moved  the  weapon  and  returned  it  to  the  drawer, 
while  with  the  green  case  as  a  dust-cloth  she  made 
an  attack  upon  the  shelves  of  books  with  such  vio 
lence  and  success  as  to  cause  her  to  draw  back 
quickly  with  a  sneeze.  She  stopped,  and,  with  the 
green  dust-cloth  poised  in  air,  listened  attentively. 
No  sound  was  heard.  Cautiously  approaching 
the  door  she  looked  up  and  down  the  passage 
way. 

At  the  further  end  of  this  corridor  she  could  see 
a  small  iron-barred  door.  This,  she  rightly  con 
jectured,  led  to  the  conciergerie,  and  through  it 
passed  the  prisoners  when  they  were  brought  in 
for  trial.  She  determined  to  pass  into  the  prison 
through  this  door,  and  went  toward  it  with  a  firm 
step.  Taking  hold  of  the  bars  with  both  hands, 
she  pressed  her  face  against  the  ironwork. 

"  What  do  you  want  here  ?  "  demanded  a  voice, 
and  Edme  saw  in  the  sombre  half  light  the  figure 
of  a  sentry.  He  stood  so  near  the  door  upon  the 


CITIZENESS  PRIVAT'S  CARD  309 

other  side  that  by  stretching  her  hand  through  the 
bars  she  could  have  touched  him. 

"  I  wish  to  enter  here,"  Edme  replied. 

"One  does  not  enter  here,  citizeness.  Go 
around  to  the  main  entrance  on  the  Quai." 

"  It  is  so  far,"  she  demurred  pleadingly.  "  I 
have  been  doing  my  work  here  in  the  tribunal 
chambers,  and  now  wish  to  have  a  few  words  of 
conversation  with  the  turnkey  Privat." 

"Who  are  you?" 

"I  —  I  am  Jeanne  Privat,  his  sister." 

"  Well  —  such  being  the  case,  I  will  let  you 
come  through,  but  you  must  be  sure  to  come  out 
this  way,  citizeness.  If  you  were  seen  going  out 
of  the  lower  entrance,  not  having  entered  there,  it 
might  get  both  of  us  in  trouble.  And  you  might 
lose  your  place  as  well  as  I." 

As  he  spoke  he  opened  the  lower  half  of  an  iron 
wicket.  "  Duck  your  head  a  little,  citizeness,  and 
enter  quickly." 

Edme  did  not  need  a  second  bidding  ;  the  gate 
closed  with  a  snap,  and  she  was  inside  the  con- 
ciergerie. 

"  Privat  is  in  the  second  corridor.  Go  to  the 
right  and  then  turn  to  the  left,"  said  the  warder. 
"  There  he  is  now,  just  at  the  corner,"  he  added 
hastily.  "  Hey,  Privat,"  and  he  gave  a  prolonged, 
low  whistle,  "  here  is  your  sister,  come  to  see  you." 

Fran9ois  Privat  was  slow  of  speech  as  well  as  of 
brain,  so  he  merely  stood  gaping  with  amazement 
at  sight  of  the  young  woman  who  claimed  him  as 
a  brother,  and  who  bore  not  the  slightest  resem- 


310  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

blance  to  his  sister  Jeanne.  Edme  stepped  quickly 
forward  toward  the  turnkey,  saying  in  a  low  voice 
as  she  approached  him  :  — 

"  I  bring  a  message  from  your  sister  ;  the  good 
sentry  should  have  told  you."  Then  in  the  same 
breath,  she  went  on  hurriedly  to  say  :  "  The  poor 
woman  was  taken  quite  ill  this  afternoon,  so  ill 
that  she  had  to  be  put  to  bed.  I  came  to  do  her 
work  in  the  tribunal  chambers,  but  thought  you 
should  be  told  of  your  sister's  illness,  so  asked  the 
sentry  to  let  me  speak  to  you." 

In  her  trepidation,  she  hardly  knew  what  words 
came  to  her  lips. 

There  was  silence ;  then  after  Privat  had  gotten 
the  information  into  his  head,  and  had  digested  it, 
he  said  slowly :  — 

"Tell  Jeanne  Privat  that  I  shall  come  to  see 
her  —  let  me  see  —  day  after  to-morrow  —  no  — 
the  day  after  that,  Thursday,  my  first  free  time." 

Edme  looked  up  into  his  face.  He  was  very 
tall  and  of  a  ruddy  complexion,  fully  fifteen  years 
younger  than  his  sister. 

"  Is  that  all  your  message  ? "  she  inquired,  in 
order  to  gain  time  for  thought. 

"  At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  if  you  like, 
but  she  knows  the  time  well  enough  —  from  four 
to  six." 

Then  without  showing  any  further  interest  in 
the  subject,  the  imperturbable  Privat  took  up  his 
bunch  of  keys  and  began  to  polish  one  of  them 
upon  his  coatsleeve. 

There  was  a  pause. 


CITIZENESS  PRIVAT'S   CARD  311 

Edme  summoned  all  her  courage  and  spoke  with 
as  much  composure  as  she  could  assume,  although 
she  felt  that  her  voice  trembled  :  — 

"  Citizen  Privat,  I  have  an  urgent  request  to 
make  you." 

Privat  blinked  at  her  out  of  his  stupid  eyes. 

"  But  I  am  prepared  to  pay  for  it." 

A  sign  of  animation  seemed  to  come  into  the 
turnkey's  face,  but  he  did  not  move  nor  seek  to 
question  her. 

"  What  I  am  about  to  ask  may  be  very  difficult 
for  you  to  do,  and  that  is  why  I  am  prepared  to 
pay  you  well."  She  dwelt  upon  the  last  words, 
seeming  to  guess  that  she  had  struck  the  right 
note. 

"  How  much  are  you  prepared  to  pay  ? "  he 
asked  in  his  slow  way. 

Edme  drew  a  purse  from  the  folds  of  her  gown, 
and  opening  it  disclosed  a  number  of  shining  gold 
pieces.  Privat's  eyes  were  animated  now. 

"  All  that ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  What  do  you 
want  me  to  do  for  it  ?  It  must  be  something  dan 
gerous.  I  —  I  am  not  a  brave  man." 

"It  is  merely,"  continued  Edme,  holding  the 
open  purse  in  her  hand,  "to  procure  me  speech 
with  a  prisoner." 

"What  prisoner?" 

"  Colonel  Robert  Tournay." 

"  But  it  is  impossible ;  he  is  in  secret  confine 
ment." 

"  I  know  he  is,  but  what  I  ask  is  not  impossible. 
There  are  five  hundred  francs  here  ;  five  hundred 


312  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

francs,  all  for  you,  if  you  will  but  bring  me  to  the 
cell  of  Robert  Tournay." 

"  I  cannot  do  that ;  I  have  not  the  key." 

"  You  know  who  has  the  key.  Surely  some  of 
this  gold  will  enable  you  to  get  it.  I  leave  the 
means  with  you." 

Privates  mind  seemed  to  be  going  through  the 
process  which  served  him  for  thought. 

"  At  the  further  end  of  the  south  corridor,"  he 
finally  said,  motioning  with  a  key,  "  in  half  an  hour, 
the  prisoner  Tournay  will  be  allowed  to  walk  for 
exercise.  The  south  corridor  is  separated  from 
this  one  by  a  grated  door.  I  will  see  that  you  get 
through  that  door.  '  That  is  all  I  can  do." 

Edme  pressed  the  purse  into  his  huge  palm, 
which  closed  upon  it  greedily. 

"  Shall  I  come  with  you  now  ?  "  she  asked,  her 
pulse  beating  high  between  expectation,  hope,  and 
fear. 

"  No,  wait  here  in  the  shadow  until  I  come  to 
fetch  you  to  him.  I  shall  also  come  to  tell  you 
when  you  must  leave  the  south  corridor.  You 
will  have  to  do  so  quickly  and  go  back  the  same 
way  you  came.  If  you  are  discovered  here,  I 
shall  get  into  trouble.  You  understand  ?  " 

"  I  understand,"  she  answered. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


FOR  three  days  Tournay  and  St.  Hilaire  worked 
away  persistently  at  the  bars  of  their  window. 
They  only  dared  work  between  the  hours  of  one 
and  four  in  the  morning.  Not  only  secrecy  but 
great  ingenuity  was  called  for,  as  it  was  necessary 
that  the  bars  should  preserve  in  the  daytime  their 
usual  appearance  of  solidity. 

To  do  this,  all  the  filings  were  kept,  and  at  the  ter 
mination  of  each  night's  work,  this  dust,  moistened 
by  saliva  into  a  paste,  was  smeared  into  the  fissure 
they  had  made.  Their  intention  was  to  cut  each 
bar  nearly  through,  leaving  it  standing,  but  so 
weakened  that  it  could  be  torn  out  by  a  sudden 
wrench. 

On  the  morning  which  terminated  their  third 
night's  labor,  just  as  the  first  gray  streak  in  the 
east  announced  the  early  coming  of  the  long,  hot 
summer  day,  the  third  bar  had  been  cut  halfway 
through.  The  two  prisoners  looked  into  each 
other's  eyes.  Both  realized  that  they  must  work 
rapidly  in  order  to  complete  their  task  in  time. 

"  At  all  hazards  we  must  begin  earlier  to-night," 
whispered  St.  Hilaire  significantly.  Tournay 
nodded.  "  There  is  still  a  good  deal  of  work  to 


314  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

be  done,  although  a  thin  man  might  squeeze 
through,"  he  said. 

"  Not  a  man  of  your  breadth,  colonel,"  replied 
St.  Hilaire,  carefully  rubbing  the  dampened  filings 
into  the  crevice.  "  We  shall  have  to  cut  through 
all  of  them,  and  even  then  it  will  be  a  narrow  pas 
sageway  for  your  shoulders." 

"  Now  for  a  little  rest,"  he  continued,  descend 
ing  from  the  table  as  quietly  as  a  cat,  and  putting 
it  in  another  part  of  the  cell. 

Tired  out  by  their  work  and  the  attendant  ex 
citement,  the  two  men  threw  themselves,  fully 
dressed,  upon  their  beds  and  slept  until  late  in 
the  morning.  Their  slumber  might  have  con 
tinued  until  past  noon  had  they  not  been  rather 
unceremoniously  awakened  by  the  appearance  of 
the  turnkey  and  a  couple  of  gendarmes  by  their 
bedside. 

"  What  is  wanted  ?  "  exclaimed  Tournay  sleepily. 

"  You  are  to  be  transferred  to  the  conciergerie, 
citizen  colonel,  that  is  all,"  was  the  reply,  although 
the  tone  implied  a  deeper  meaning. 

Tournay  sprang  from  the  bed,  wide  enough 
awake  now,  and  with  a  sickening  feeling  at  his 
heart.  He  looked  at  St.  Hilaire,  who  was  lying 
upon  his  own  pallet  outwardly  indifferent  to  the 
announcement,  but  whose  fingers  silently  stole  un 
der  the  mattress  and  closed  upon  the  file  that  had 
been  placed  there  the  night  before.  St.  Hilaire 
continued  to  lie  there  motionless,  feigning  sleep  ; 
but  his  alert  brain  was  busy  with  the  problem  as 
to  where  it  would  be  possible  for  him  to  deftly 


TOURNAY'S  VISITOR  315 

and  successfully  hide  the  useful  little  tool  in  case 
the  guards  had  also  come  to  search  their  cell. 

"  Are  you  ready,  citizen  colonel  ?  " 

Tournay  gave  a  quick  glance  at  their  window. 
St.  Hilaire  rose  to  a  sitting  posture. 

"  Citizen  colonel,"  he  said,  "  will  you  take  my 
hand  at  parting?  " 

Tournay  stepped  to  his  bedside.  Outwardly 
calm,  the  two  prisoners  clasped  hands.  Tournay 
felt  the  hard  substance  of  steel  against  his  palm. 

Giving  no  sign  of  his  surprise,  he  shook  his 
head  sadly.  "  It  is  useless,"  he  said. 

"  Good-by,  citizen  colonel,"  said  St.  Hilaire  care 
lessly,  as  one  might  bid  adieu  to  a  chance  acquaint 
ance.  "  I  am  thinner  than  you,  and  I  may  grow 
still  more  so  if  they  keep  me  here  many  days 
longer."  He  gave  an  imperceptible  glance  of  the 
eye  in  the  direction  of  the  window. 

The  colonel  turned  away  while  the  file  slid  up 
his  coat  sleeve. 

"  I  am  ready,  citizen  officers,"  he  said. 

The  two  gendarmes  preceded  him  into  the  cor 
ridor.  As  he  stepped  over  the  threshold,  Gen 
darme  Pierre  caught  him  quickly  by  the  wrist  and 
the  next  instant  had  the  file  in  his  own  posses 
sion. 

It  was  done  so  adroitly  and  quickly  that  Tour- 
nay  could  have  offered  no  resistance  even  had  he 
been  so  inclined.  The  other  gendarme  was  not 
even  aware  of  what  took  place. 

"I  like  a  clever  trick,"  said  Pierre  with  a 
chuckle. 


316  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"You  are  quite  a  magician,"  was  Tournay's  re 
joinder. 

The  tall  gendarme  gave  his  grim  chuckle.  "  I 
am  called  Pierre  the  prestidigitateur,"  he  said, 
"  though  you  are  yourself  fairly  adept  at  palming. 
What  have  you  been  doing  with  this  little  play 
thing?"  he  continued,  as  they  walked  down  the 
corridor. 

"  You  mean  '  What  did  I  intend  to  do  with  it?  ' 
do  you  not  ?  " 

The  gendarme  examined  the  file  carefully. 

"  No,  I  mean  what  have  you  been  using  it  on," 
he  said. 

Tournay  was  silent. 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  hesitate  to  speak ;  it  will  be 
found  out." 

Tournay  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  made  no 
reply. 

"  Well,  you  are  right,"  said  the  gendarme.  "  It 
is  for  us  to  find  out."  And  he  relapsed  into  a 
silence  that  was  not  broken  until  they  reached  the 
conciergerie. 

"  You  will  hardly  escape  from  this  place  though 
you  had  a  whole  workshop  of  tools,"  he  said  grimly 
at  parting. 

Tournay  realized  the  truth  of  this  statement, 
for  he  was  now  in  the  most  dreaded  of  all  the 
prisons  of  Paris,  and  he  knew  well  what  his  trans 
fer  foreshadowed. 

Tournay  had  no  certain  means  of  knowing 
whether  their  attempt  to  cut  their  way  out  of  the 
Luxembourg  had  been  discovered ;  and  he  still 


TOURNAY'S  VISITOR  317 

cherished  the  slight  hope  that  St.  Hilaire  might 
be  able  to  escape  from  the  Luxembourg  with  the 
assistance  of  Gaillard. 

Had  they  both  escaped,  St.  Hilaire  and  he  had 
formed  a  daring  plan  to  rescue  the  Republic  from 
the  hands  of  those  who  were  destroying  it.  And 
now,  even  though  it  was  frustrated,  he  could  not 
help  going  over  all  the  details  in  his  mind,  al 
though  the  thought  of  their  complete  failure  added 
to  his  misery. 

The  news  of  the  arrest  of  General  Hoche  had 
reached  Tournay's  ears  some  time  before,  and  al 
though  it  had  caused  him  great  pain  to  learn  of 
the  misfortune  that  had  befallen  his  chief,  he  felt 
that  the  event  would  embitter  the  army,  and  that 
they  would  the  more  readily  give  their  support 
to  any  plan  that  would  of  necessity  liberate  Hoche. 

This  plan  had  been  made  for  Tournay  to  reach 
the  army  and  enlist  the  officers  in  his  support ; 
then  return  to  Paris  with  a  sufficient  force  at  his 
back  to  destroy  the  tyrants  and  overawe  that  part 
of  the  Commune  that  still  idolized  them.  That 
would  give  an  opportunity  for  the  cooler  and 
more  moderate  heads  in  the  convention  to  come  to 
the  front,  restore  order,  and  form  a  stable  govern 
ment  based  upon  the  constitution. 

St.  Hilaire,  meanwhile,  was  to  remain  in  hid 
ing  ;  but  the  first  approach  of  the  national  troops 
and  the  first  blast  of  the  counter-revolution  was 
to  be  the  signal  for  him  to  appear  in  the  fau 
bourgs,  supported  by  all  the  followers  he  could 
muster,  armed  with  all  the  eloquence  he  could 


318  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

command,  to  move  the  people  to  action,  and  fan  to 
white  heat  the  flame  of  opposition  to  the  Terror 
ists  which  was  already  smouldering  on  every  side. 

But  now  all  the  fabric  of  the  carefully  spun 
scheme  had  been  blown  roughly  aside  by  one  puff 
of  adverse  wind. 

Once  in  the  conciergerie,  a  prisoner  was  not 
kept  in  uncertainty  for  any  length  of  time.  The 
next  day  after  his  transfer  Tournay  was  sum 
moned  for  trial.  At  first  he  attempted  to  defend 
himself  with  all  the  eloquence  which  the  justice 
of  his  case  called  forth.  All  the  fire  of  his  nature 
was  aroused,  and  as  he  spoke  the  attention  of  the 
crowded  court  room  was  held  as  if  by  a  spell. 
Murmurs  of  applause  rose  from  the  multitude, 
even  among  those  who  had  come  in  the  hope  of 
seeing  him  judged  guilty. 

But  upon  his  judges  he  made  no  visible  effect. 
They  refused  to  call  his  witnesses.  They  sup 
pressed  the  applause,  and  cutting  short  his  defense 
hastened  to  conclude  his  trial.  Tournay  saw  the 
futility  of  his  defense.  He  read  the  verdict  in 
the  eyes  of  the  judges,  and  sat  down. 

After  the  verdict  had  been  given  he  was  taken 
back  to  the  conciergerie,  "  sentenced  to  die  within 
eight  and  forty  hours." 

"  Oh,  for  a  month  of  freedom  ! "  he  cried  in 
wardly,  as  he  reentered  the  prison.  "  For  one 
short  month  of  liberty !  After  that  time  had 
passed  I  would  submit  to  any  death  uncomplain 
ingly." 

Withdrawing  to  the  further  end  of  the  corridor 


TOURNAY'S  VISITOR  319 

where  he  was  permitted  to  walk  for  a  short  time, 
he  sat  down  by  a  rough  table  where  some  of  the 
lighter-hearted  prisoners  had,  in  earlier  days,  be 
guiled  the  time  at  cards.  Here  he  rested  his  head 
upon  his  arm  and  sat  motionless. 

Then  his  thoughts  returned  to  Ednie,  or  rather 
continued  to  dwell  upon  her,  for  no  matter  what 
he  did  or  spoke  or  thought,  no  matter  how  absorb 
ing  the  occupation  of  the  hour,  she  was  always 
in  his  mind,  the  consciousness  of  her  presence 
was  ever  in  his  heart. 

"  Oh,  for  one  little  month  of  liberty,"  he  cried 
aloud,  "to  make  one  attempt  to  rescue  France, 
and  to  see  you,  Edme,  once  again !  "  He  rose  from 
his  seat  with  a  gesture  of  despair,  and  turning, 
saw  her  standing  there  before  him.  He  stood  in 
silence,  looking  at  her  as  if  she  were  the  creation 
of  his  fancy,  stepped  for  a  moment  from  the 
shadow  of  the  gray  walls  to  melt  into  nothingness, 
should  he,  by  speaking,  break  the  spell. 

She  came  toward  him,  putting  her  finger  to  her 
lips  as  a  sign  of  caution.  "  Speak  low,"  she  whis 
pered,  "  lest  they  hear  you !  " 

"  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort,"  he  replied  in  a 
low  voice,  "  is  this  really  you  ?  In  God's  name 
tell  me  how  you  come  to  be  here  ?  " 

"I  have  come  to  you,"  she  answered  simply, 
putting  her  hands  in  his.  "  When  I  heard  that 
you  had  been  arrested  and  put  in  prison,  I  knew 
that  I  should  come  and  find  you.  You  see  all 
France  was  not  wide  enough  to  keep  me  from 
you." 


320  f         ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Then  you  are  not  a  prisoner  ?  "  he  exclaimed 
joyfully. 

"  No,  I  came  in  of  my  own  free  will.  No  one 
suspects  who  I  am." 

"  Merciful  God,  do  you  know  the  risk  you  run  ? 
Why  have  you  done  this  ?  " 

"  Have  you  not  risked  your  life  more  than  once 
for  my  sake  ?  Did  you  think  that  Edme  de  Roche- 
fort  would  do  less  for  you  ?" 

"Edme!" 

For  a  moment  the  prison  walls  vanished.  His 
shattered  plans  were  forgotten.  The  redemption 
of  the  Republic  became  as  nothing ;  he  only  knew 
that  Edme  de  Rochefort  had  proved  beyond  all 
human  doubt  her  love  for  him,  and  that  it  was 
her  loyal,  loving  heart  he  could  feel  throbbing,  as 
he  pressed  her  to  his  breast. 

Only  for  a  moment,  then  the  full  realization  of 
the  terrible  risk  she  ran  smote  him  with  redoubled 
force.  He  turned  pale.  She  had  never  seen  him 
so  deadly  white  before,  and  it  frightened  her. 

"  Hush,"  he  whispered  before  she  could  speak, 
and  stepping  cautiously  to  the  grated  door  he 
peered  out  between  the  bars.  As  far  as  the  el 
bow  of  the  corridor,  he  could  see  no  one.  With 
a  sigh  of  relief  he  came  back  to  her.  His  fears 
for  her  safety  restored  the  activity  of  his  mind. 

"  It  is  dangerous  for  you  to  go  about  the  city. 
The  merest  accident,  the  slightest  inquiry  in  re 
gard  to  you  might  lead  to  your  detection." 

"I  will  be  very  careful,"  she  replied  submis 
sively. 


TOURNAY'S  VISITOR  321 

"  Ah,  EdmeY'  he  said,  "  who  am  I  to  deserve 
such  a  love  as  yours?  The  thought  of  the  risk 
you  incur  almost  drives  me  mad.  The  knowledge 
of  your  love  will  make  my  last  hours  the  happiest 
of  my  life." 

"  Do  not  speak  of  dying,  Robert,"  she  said. 
"  There  must  still  be  hope.  They  dare  not  con 
demn  you." 

The  words,  "  You  do  not  know,"  sprang  to  his 
lips,  but  the  look  upon  her  face  told  him  that  she 
was  as  yet  in  ignorance  of  his  sentence.  He 
lacked  the  courage  to  tell  her. 

"  It  must  come,  Edme  ;  we  should  not  be  blind 
to  that.  I  would  gladly  live,  if  only  long  enough 
to  see  France  freed  from  the  talons  that  rend  it, 
and  the  true  Republic  rise  from  under  the  tyranny 
that  is  crushing  it  to  death.  I  would  gladly  live 
for  your  love,  a  love  I  never  dared  to  hope  for 
either  on  earth  or  in  heaven.  Surely  I  ought  to 
be  the  happiest  of  men  to  have  tasted  such  bliss 
even  for  a  moment ;  and  to  die  with  the  firm  belief 
that  we  shall  meet  beyond  the  grave." 

She  did  not  answer.  The  quick  heaving  of  her 
bosom  and  the  quiet  sobbing  she  struggled  to  sup 
press  went  to  his  heart. 

"  Do  not  grieve  for  me  so  much,"  he  whispered, 
drawing  her  to  him ;  "  after  all,  it  will  only  be  for 
a  little  while." 

"  For  you  who  go  the  time  may  seem  short," 
she  answered  mournfully ;  "  but  each  year  that  I 
live  without  you  will  seem  an  eternity.  I  cannot 
bear  it." 


322  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Courage,  dear  one,  I  beseech  you ;  do  not 
grieve  for  me.  Why,  I  might  have  met  death  any 
day  within  the  past  years.  I  have  come  to  re 
gard  it  with  indifference.  Not  that  I  despise 
life,"  he  added  quickly.  "  Life  with  you  would 
be  more  than  heaven,  but  the  very  nature  of  a 
soldier's  life  makes  him  look  upon  his  own  sudden 
death  as  almost  a  probability.  It  is  but  a  pang, 
and  all  is  over." 

"  I  will  not  grieve  for  you,  Eobert,"  she  replied 
with  firmness,  "  not  while  there  is  something  to  be 
done.  Something  that  I  can  do.  They  shall  not 
murder  you." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  he  asked  quickly, 
fearing  that  some  rash  undertaking  had  suggested 
itself  to  her  mind. 

"  This  Robespierre  rules  through  the  fear  he 
has  inspired,  but  he  is  hated,"  replied  Edme. 
"The  people  accept  his  decrees  like  sheep,  but 
they  obey  sullenly.  They  do  not  criticise  him, 
but  that  bodes  him  the  greater  ill.  It  needs  but 
one  blast  to  make  the  whole  nation  turn  against 
him.  There  must  be  men  in  the  convention  who 
are  ready  to  rebel  against  him,"  she  continued, 
talking  rapidly.  "  I  shall  go  to  them." 

"  No,  Edme,  you  shall  not.     It  would  be  " 

"  Listen  to  what  I  have  to  say,"  she  said,  inter 
rupting  him  with  an  imperative  gesture.  "  I  shall 
find  them  out ;  I  shall  go  to  their  houses.  It 
needs  but  a  little  fire;  I  will  kindle  it.  I  will 
plead  with  them.  If  they  have  any  regard  for 
their  Republic  they  will  listen  to  me.  Your  name, 


TOURNAY'S  VISITOR  323 

Robert,  shall  not  be  mentioned,  but  it  will  be  my 
love  for  you  that  shall  speak  to  them.  In  the 
name  of  the  Republic  I  shall  plead  with  them,  but 
it  will  be  only  to  save  you.  If  they  have  any 
courage  or  manhood  left,  they  will  accept  now." 

Robert  Tournay  looked  at  her  with  wonder  and 
admiration  as,  with  a  flush  of  excitement  on  her 
cheek,  she  outlined  clearly  and  rapidly  a  plan 
strikingly  similar  to  that  evolved  by  St.  Hilaire 
and  himself,  —  similar,  but  more  daring,  more 
impossible  ;  one  that  could  not  fail  to  be  disas 
trous  to  her,  whatever  the  ultimate  result. 

For  a  moment  he  feared  to  speak,  knowing  the 
inflexibility  of  her  will.  "  I  pray  you,  Edme, 
abandon  your  design.  It  will  only  drag  you  into 
the  net  and  will  not  avail  me." 

"  Robert,  my  mind  is  fixed;  my  action  may 
result  in  saving  you,  but  if  not,  your  fate  shall 
be  mine  also." 

"  Edme  I  Do  not  speak  thus.  The  thought  of 
you  standing  on  that  scaffold,  the  terrible  knife 
menacing  your  beautiful  neck,  will  drive  me  mad. 
Oh,  the  horror  of  it !  "  and  he  put  his  hand  before 
his  eyes  and  trembled. 

"  Promise  me  that  you  will  not  do  this,"  he  con 
tinued  pleadingly.  "  Robespierre's  power  will 
come  to  an  end,  but  the  time  is  not  yet  ripe.  Do 
not  try  to  save  my  life.  Do  not  even  try  to  see 
me  again."  He  took  her  head  between  his  hands. 
"  Let  this  be  our  last  adieu,"  he  pleaded.  "  Lis 
ten  !  the  turnkey  is  advancing  down  the  passage 
way.  I  touch  your  lips ;  the  memory  of  it  shall 
dwell  in  my  soul  forever." 


324  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

She  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck  for  a  mo 
ment,  then  before  the  heavy  turnkey  entered  the 
inclosure  she  had  passed  quickly  along  the  dark 
corridor  through  the  wicket  gate  into  the  Tribunal 
Hall. 

The  chamber  was  dimly  lighted  by  two  smoky  oil 
lamps,  one  on  each  side  of  the  room ;  but  they  gave 
out  enough  light  to  enable  her  to  see  the  way  be 
tween  the  desks  and  chairs  toward  the  door  through 
which  she  had  first  entered  from  the  street. 

Edme  turned  the  handle  of  the  door  but  could 
not  open  it.  It  had  been  locked  on  the  outside. 
She  ran  to  one  of  the  front  windows.  By  the 
faint  light  in  the  Rue  Barillerie,  she  could  discern 
an  occasional  passer-by.  With  an  effort  she  raised 
the  heavy  sash  and  leaned  out.  It  was  between 
eight  and  nine  o'clock,  and  the  small  street  was 
very  quiet.  The  few  pedestrians  were  already 
out  of  hearing,  and  had  they  been  nearer  she 
would  have  feared  to  call  out  to  them.  She  looked 
down  at  the  pavement.  The  height  was  twenty 
feet ;  she  closed  the  window  with  a  shudder. 
Looking  about  the  room  she  saw,  what  had  before 
escaped  her  notice,  a  ray  of  light  coming  through 
the  crack  of  a  door  into  an  adjoining  room. 

A  number  of  voices  in  conversation  was  audible. 
She  resolved  to  play  again  the  part  of  Citizeness 
Privat.  Whoever  might  be  there,  when  he  learned 
that  she  had  been  accidentally  locked  in  while  at 
work,  would  show  her  the  way  out. 

The  door  opened  wider,  and  a  man  came  forth. 
Edme,  who  had  hastily  taken  up  the  same  broom 


TOURNAY'S  VISITOR  325 

she  had  before  used,  pretended  to  be  at  work, 
while  she  summoned  her  self-possession.  The 
man  gave  her  no  more  than  a  casual  glance  as  he 
went  to  a  table,  took  out  from  a  drawer  a  bundle 
of  papers,  and  proceeded  to  look  them  over. 

Edme  looked  at  him  closely,  sweeping  all  the 
while.  Her  first  apprehension  was  quieted  when 
she  saw  he  was  a  very  young  man  with  rosy  cheeks 
and  a  pen  behind  his  ear.  He  was  evidently  one 
of  the  government  clerks,  staying  late  at  the 
office  to  finish  some  piece  of  work. 

She  breathed  more  freely  every  moment  notwith 
standing  the  amount  of  dust  she  raised.  The  clerk 
put  the  bundle  of  papers  under  his  arm  with  a  ges 
ture  of  annoyance,  and  went  back  to  the  other  room. 

Edme  waited  a  few  minutes,  put  the  broom 
under  her  arm,  and  approached  the  door  which  the 
clerk  had  left  ajar.  She  could  not  help  starting 
as  she  read  the  large  letters  on  the  panel  of  the 
door.  The  room  which  contained  the  apple-faced 
and  harmless  looking  little  scribe  was  designated 
"  Chamber  of  Death  Warrants." 

"  Here 's  a  pretty  state  of  affairs,  Clement," 
she  heard  a  voice  exclaim  in  a  tone  of  annoyance. 
"  The  list  of  warrants  for  '  La  Force  '  to-morrow 
consists  of  thirty-seven  names  while  I  have  only 
thirty-six  documents." 

"  Count  them  again,  Hanneton  ;  you  know  at 
school  you  were  always  slow  at  figures." 

"  I  have  compared  the  warrants  with  the  list  of 
names  twice  most  carefully.  I  assure  you  one 
warrant  is  missing.  See  for  yourself,  4  Bonnefoi, 


326  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Charles  de,  ex-noble  '  is  on  the  list,  but  there  is  not 
a  single  Bonnefoi  among  to-morrow's  pile  of  war 
rants." 

"  Have  you  looked  through  those  of  day  after 
to-morrow  ?  " 

"  I  have,  both  of  the  day  after  to-morrow  and 
the  day  following  that.  In  fact,  I  have  gone  over 
all  the  warrants  for  all  the  prisoners,  but  still  no 
Bonnefoi,  Charles  de,  ex-noble" 

"  Lucky  for  Bonnefoi !  " 

"But  unlucky  for  me.  I  shall  be  discharged 
if  I  let  these  go  out  this  way." 

"  I  tell  you  what  to  do,"  said  Clement,  "  take 
one  from  the  day  after  to-morrow.  They  are  in 
too  great  a  hurry  in  the  office  these  days  to  com 
pare  the  lists  ;  they  just  see  if  the  number  tallies, 
and  send  off  the  warrants  to  the  keepers  of  the 
various  prisons." 

"  But  if  I  do  that  I  shall  still  be  one  short,  day 
after  to-morrow." 

"  No  you  will  not,"  replied  the  facile  Clement ; 
"  you  just  take  one  from  the  day  following  that, 
and  so  on  and  so  forth.  You  merely  keep  the 
thing  going.  Your  lists  and  warrants  will  agree 
as  to  number  every  day.  No  question  arises, 
and  the  only  result  is  that  some  fellow  gets  shoved 
along  under  the  national  razor  just  twenty-four 
hours  earlier  than  he  would  have,  had  not  some 
one,  —  I  won't  say  named  Hanneton,  —  but  some 
one  who  shall  be  nameless,  made  a  little  blunder." 

"  I  rather  dislike  to  do  such  a  thing,  Clement." 

"  Oh,  Hanneton,  my  boy,  I  always  said  you  were 


TOURNAY'S  VISITOR  327 

slow.  What's  twenty-four  hours  to  a  man  who 
has  got  to  die  anyway  ?  and  then  think  of  Bonne- 
foi ;  he  '11  be  overlooked  for  a  long  time.  Some  of 
those  fellows  among  the  aristocracy  have  been  in 
prison  two  or  three  years  already.  They  get  to 
like  it  and  lead  quite  a  jolly  life  there.  I  am  told 
they  have  fine  times  in  some  of  the  prisons.  Bon- 
nefoi  will  be  wondering  why  they  don't  come  to 
shave  him,  but  he  won't  say  anything.  Bonnefoi 
won't  peep.  You  can  count  on  his  silence." 

"  But  my  friend  Clement,  it  will  be  discovered 
some  day." 

"  Well,  I  can't  look  ahead  so  far  as  that.  If 
you  are  found  out  you  can  say  you  made  a  mistake. 
They  can't  any  more  than  discharge  a  man  for 
making  a  mistake." 

"  I  '11  do  it,  Clement.  Here  goes  —  good  luck 
to  Bonnefoi." 

"  And  good  luck  to  the  fellow  you  shove  ahead 
in  his  place ;  we  '11  drink  an  extra  glass  to  him 
when  we  finish  work  to-night.  Let's  see  what 
may  his  name  be." 

"'Tournay,  Robert,  former  Colonel ! ''  Hello, 
what *s  that  ?  "  cried  Clement,  interrupting  him. 

"  I  did  not  hear  anything,"  replied  Hanneton. 

"  The  sound  seemed  to  come  from  the  next 
room." 

"  Oh,  it 's  only  that  woman  who  is  cleaning  the 
place.  She  has  knocked  over  a  table  or  a  chair. 
Come.  Let's  go  out  and  get  something  to  eat. 
I'm  famished.  We  can  return  later,  and  finish 
our  work." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

TWO   WOMEN 

THE  revelation  that  Tournay  was  condemned, 
the  awful  knowledge  that  he  would  be  executed  on 
the  morrow,  conveyed  to  her  thus  suddenly,  made 
the  room  reel  before  Edme's  eyes.  In  her  dizzi 
ness  she  fell  against  one  of  the  tables  and  held  to 
it  for  support. 

In  the  quiet  that  followed  the  departure  of  the 
clerks  she  pressed  her  head  and  tried  to  think.  At 
first  her  benumbed  brain  refused  to  work ;  then  as 
the  full  significance  of  the  clerk's  action  came 
back  to  her,  when  she  realized  just  what  he  had 
done  and  what  she  in  her  turn  might  do,  she  stood 
erect,  alert,  and  courageous. 

The  warrant  for  Robert's  death ;  could  she  get 
possession  of  it  ?  With  a  beating  heart  she  glided 
into  the  chamber  of  death  warrants. 

A  lamp  was  burning  in  the  room,  and  there  in 
plain  view  upon  the  table  were  three  packets  of 
black-covered  papers.  She  bent  over  them  hastily 
and  at  once  took  up  the  file  marked  :  "  Warrants 
of  the  eighth  Thermidor."  With  nervous  fingers 
she  ran  them  through,  looking  at  each  name  until 
she  came  to  that  of  "  Tournay,  Robert,  ex-colonel." 
At  sight  of  the  name  she  gave  a  half-suppressed 


TWO   WOMEN  329 

cry,  and  took  it  quietly  from  the  others.  "  They 
shall  not  send  you  to  the  guillotine  to-morrow,  Rob 
ert,"  she  breathed.  Her  first  thought  was  how 
to  make  way  with  the  fatal  paper.  She  looked 
round  the  room ;  it  had  one  window  and  two  doors. 
The  window  looked  out  upon  the  street.  One 
doorway  led  back  into  the  tribunal  chamber. 
Through  the  other,  a  small  one,  the  two  clerks  must 
have  passed  out.  She  hastened  towards  it,  pray 
ing  fervently  that  they  had  omitted  to  fasten  it. 
Vain  prayer,  the  clerks  had  not  been  remiss  in 
their  duty  here.  It  was  locked.  Yet  it  was  not 
a  strong  barrier.  A  few  blows  struck  with  some 
heavy  object  might  break  it  through ;  or  better 
still  there  was  a  pistol  in  the  drawer  of  one  of  the 
desks ;  with  that  she  could  blow  the  lock  to  atoms. 
Either  method  would  make  a  noise,  but  she  must 
take  the  risk. 

Just  as  these  thoughts  flashed  through  her  mind, 
she  saw  to  her  consternation  the  door-handle  turn, 
and  heard  the  grating  of  a  key  on  the  outside. 

"  The  employees  returning,"  she  thought,  and 
had  just  presence  of  mind  enough  to  pass  her  left 
hand,  which  still  clutched  the  death  warrant,  be 
hind  her  back,  when  the  door  opened,  and  she  was 
face  to  face  with  a  woman. 

"  Hello !  "  said  the  latter,  "  I  expected  to  find 
Clement  and  Hanneton  here.  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"I  —  I  am,  —  I  came  in  the  place  of  Madame 
—  of  Citizeness  Privat." 

"You  seem  a  little  put  out,  citizeness,  at  the 
sight  of  La  Liberte.  You  have  never  seen  me 


330  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

before?  That's  why,  eh?  Tell  me,  now,  what 
are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  I  am  doing  the  work  of  Citizeness  Privat,  who 
is  ill,"  replied  Ed  me,  recovering  her  self-possession. 

"  Hum,"  said  La  Liberte*  with  a  slight  sniff,  as 
she  closed  the  door  and  passed  toward  the  centre 
of  the  room.  Edme  slowly  revolved  on  her  heel, 
keeping  her  face  toward  La  Liberte,  and  her  left 
hand  behind  her  back. 

"  What  are  you  trying  to  hide  there  ? "  de 
manded  La  Liberte  quickly,  whose  bright  brown 
eyes  took  in  every  motion  of  Edme. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  hide." 

La  Liberty's  glance  went  from  Edme  to  the 
warrants  on  the  table,  and  then  back  to  Edine's 
face  again. 

"  You  are  hiding  something  behind  your  back," 
persisted  La  Liberte,  trying  to  obtain  a  peep  at  it 
by  making  a  circle  around  Edme.  Edme  con 
tinued  to  turn,  always  keeping  her  face  toward  La 
Liberte. 

The  latter  stopped.  "  I  will  see  what  you  have 
there,"  she  declared  with  a  toss  of  her  head,  her 
curiosity  aroused  to  the  burning  point. 

"  You  shall  not.  It  does  not  concern  you," 
was  the  firm  reply. 

For  an  instant  each  looked  into  the  other's  eyes 
in  silence.  Both  breathed  defiance  ;  both  were 
equally  determined. 

Then  with  a  tigerlike  spring  La  Liberte  dashed 
forward,  seized  Edme  about  the  waist  with  one 
arm,  while  she  endeavored  to  secure  the  parch- 


TWO  WOMEN  331 

ment  with  her  other  hand.  Edme  quickly  passed 
the  document  into  her  right  hand,  bringing  it  for 
ward  high  above  her  head.  With  the  same  cat 
like  agility,  La  Liberte  sprang  for  it  on  the  other 
side  and  managed  to  get  hold  of  it  by  one  corner. 
There  was  a  short  struggle  ;  a  tearing  of  paper, 
and  each  held  a  piece  of  the  document  in  her  hand. 

"A  warrant!  "  exclaimed  La  Liberte,  darting 
back  a  few  paces  and  shaking  out  the  piece  of 
paper  in  her  hand.  "  You  have  been  tampering 
with  these,"  she  added  quickly,  putting  one  hand 
upon  the  pile  of  documents  on  the  table. 

Edme  made  no  reply. 

"  Why  did  you  take  it  ?  "  inquired  La  Liberte, 
taking  her  portion  of  paper  near  the  light  to  exam 
ine  it,  while  she  kept  one  eye  fixed  upon  her  late 
antagonist,  in  fear  of  a  sudden  attack. 

The  warrant  had  been  divided  nearly  down  the 
centre ;  but  the  last  name  of  the  condemned  man 
was  upon  the  piece  held  by  La  Liberte. 

"  Tournay  !  "  she  cried  out  in  surprise.  "  Rob 
ert  Tournay !  What  object  have  you  in  destroy 
ing  this  warrant  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  destroyed  it,"  replied  Edme, 
making  the  greatest  effort  to  maintain  an  outward 
calm.  "  It  was  you  who  tore  it." 

"Don't  try  any  of  those  tricks  with  me," 
snapped  La  Liberte.  "  Come,  what  was  your 
object  in  taking  this  warrant  ?  It  is  a  dangerous 
thing  to  tamper  with  those  documents." 

"  I  shall  not  answer  any  of  your  questions,"  was 
Edme's  rejoinder. 


332  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

For  a  space  of  ten  seconds  the  two  women  stood 
again  confronting  each  other,  as  if  each  waited  for 
the  other  to  move.  La  Liberty's  eyes  looked  fix 
edly  at  Edme,  as  if  they  would  read  her  through 
and  through. 

"  You  are  not  what  you  pretend  to  be,''  she  said 
finally ;  "  you  are  no  woman  of  the  people."  Then, 
suddenly  flinging  aside  the  torn  paper,  she  rushed 
forward  and  seized  Edme's  arm. 

"  I  know  who  you  are  now ! "  she  exclaimed 
excitedly.  "  You  are  an  aristocrat !  Don't  deny 
it !  "  she  continued  passionately.  "  I  came  from 
La  Thierry.  I  was  a  young  girl  when  I  left  there, 
but  my  memory  serves  me  well.  Your  name  is 
Edme  de  Rochefort.  You  are  an  aristocrat,  and 
you  love  the  republican  colonel !  You  destroyed 
this  warrant.  You  risked  your  life  in  the  attempt 
to  prolong  his." 

"  Whoever  I  may  be,  whatever  I  attempted  to 
do,  you  tore  that  paper.  It  was  you  who  destroyed 
it,"  said  Edme  as  she  wrenched  herself  free  from 
the  woman's  grasp. 

The  only  answer  of  La  Liberte  was  a  loud  and 
scornful  laugh.  She  approached  Edme  again  with 
a  malignant  glitter  in  her  eyes  ;  but  Edme  held 
her  ground  and  confronted  her  bravely. 

"  So  you  are  Edme  de  Rochefort,"  repeated  La 
Liberte  slowly.  "  I  remember  having  seen  you 
years  ago  when  I  was  a  girl  of  fifteen,  at  my 
father's  mill  near  the  village  of  La  Thierry.  You 
were  a  pale-faced  girl  then.  You  did  n't  wear 
coarse  clothes  then !  You  drove  in  your  carriage, 


TWO  WOMEN  333 

and  did  n't  look  at  such  as  me ;  but  I  saw  you,  and 
hated  you  for  being  so  proud.  Then  there  was  a 
certain  marquis."  A  bright  spot  appeared  on 
Edme's  cheek,  but  she  did  not  speak. 

"  He  came  to  pay  his  court  to  you,  but  he  made 
love  to  me.  He  never  even  made  a  pretense  of 
loving  you.  But  he  cared  for  me  in  his  cold,  self 
ish  way.  He  took  me  to  Paris,  gave  me  every 
thing  money  could  buy,  for  a  while.  Then  he  left 
me,  and  went  back  to  you.  I  hated  you  for  that. 
You  did  not  care  for  him.  You  did  not  marry 
him.  That  made  no  difference  to  me.  Then  there 
was  another  man.  He  was  not  for  you.  He  was 
of  my  class,  not  yours.  You  had  no  right  to  his 
love.  He  never  loved  me,  I  know.  I  am  too 
proud  to  say  he  loved  me  when  it  was  not  so.  But 
he  was  kind  to  me.  He  was  noble  and  generous, 
and  I  loved  him.  You  had  no  right  to  him.  I 
hate  you  for  that  more  than  all."  Her  passion 
wrought  upon  her  so  that  her  once  pretty  face  was 
something  fearful  to  behold.  Edme  expected  at 
each  breath  she  would  spring  forward  and  tear  her 
like  a  tiger  cat. 

"  I  care  not  for  your  hatred,"  Edme  retorted 
calmly.  "  I  never  willfully  wronged  you.  Your 
hatred  cannot  harm  me." 

"  No  ?  "  demanded  the  frenzied  La  Liberte.  "  It 
can  restore  this  paper.  I  can  denounce  you.  I 
can  send  you  with  your  lover  to  the  guillotine." 

"  That  does  not  terrify  me,"  replied  Edme. 
"  You  can  send  the  woman  you  hate  and  the  man 
you  profess  to  love  into  another  world  together. 


334  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

That  is  all  you  can  do.  I  am  above  your  ha 
tred." 

La  Liberte  started  to  speak,  then  checked  her 
self. 

"  You  say  you  love  him.  Love,"  repeated  Edme 
in  a  tone  of  deep  disdain.  "  You  dare  to  call  that 
love  which  would  destroy  its  object  ?  Such  as  you 
are  not  capable  of  love." 

"  If  it  were  not  that  you  loved  him,  I  would  let 
them  cut  me  into  pieces  for  his  sake,"  retorted 
La  Liberte  fiercely. 

"  You  say  that  you  love  him,  and  you  are  will 
ing  to  send  him  to  the  guillotine,"  repeated  Edme. 

"  If  it  were  not  that  it  would  be  giving  him  to 
you,  I  would  give  my  life  a  thousand  times  to  save 
him,"  was  the  answer. 

Edme  caught  La  Liberte  by  the  arm. 

"  You  have  it  in  your  power  to  cause  my  arrest. 
If  you  will  not  use  that  power,  if  you  will  give  me 
only  twenty-four  hours,  I  may  be  able  to  save 
Robert  Tournay's  life.  At  the  expiration  of  that 
time,  whether  I  succeed  or  fail,  I  will  surrender 
myself.  I  will  denounce  myself  before  the  Com 
mittee  of  Public  Safety." 

La  Liberte  looked  into  Edme's  face  searchingly 
but  made  no  reply. 

"  You  understand  what  I  propose,"  Edme  con 
tinued  in  a  cool,  firm  voice.  "  If  you  agree  to  it 
you  can  accomplish  what  you  desire;  the  rescue 
of  Robert  Tournay  and  my  death." 

"Bah,"  said  La  Liberte  with  a  shrug;  "you 
are  very  heroic,  but,  Robert  Tournay  once  out  of 


TWO   WOMEN  335 

danger,  you  would  not  give  yourself  up  to  the 
committee.  In  your  place,  I  should  not  do  it, 
and  I  will  not  trust  you." 

"  I  give  you  my  promise  to  appear  before 
Eobespierre  himself." 

"  Your  promise,"  repeated  La  Liberte,  "  you 
ask  me  to  accept  your  simple  word?" 

"  The  word  of  a  de  Rochefort,"  said  Edme  with 
quiet  dignity. 

"  The  word  of  an  aristocrat,"  continued  La 
Liberte  slowly.  "  You  aristocrats  vaunt  your 
devotion  to  honor." 

"  And  will  you  not  trust  it  when  Colonel  Tour- 
nay's  life  is  at  stake  ?  "  asked  Edme. 

"  Yes,  I  will,"  La  Liberte  burst  forth  in  fierce 
energy.  "I  will  trust  your  word,  and  test  your 
honor." 

"  Then  for  twenty-four  hours  you  will  let  me  go 
free  ?  You  will  not  have  me  watched  nor  inter 
fered  with  in  any  way  ?  " 

"  I  give  you  my  word,"  said  La  Liberte,  draw 
ing  herself  up,  "  and  my  word  is  as  good  as  that 
of  the  proudest  aristocrat." 

Then  changing  her  manner  she  asked  quickly : 
"How  do  you  propose  to  save  Robert  Tournay? 
What  can  you  do  ?  " 

Edme  had  no  intention  of  imparting  her  plan 
to  La  Liberte,  yet  she  did  not  wish  to  antagonize 
her  by  refusing  to  confide  in  her. 

"  There  is  not  time  to  go  into  the  details  of  it 
now.  First  help  me  to  get  away  from  here.  Those 
clerks  may  return." 


336  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  I  will  prevent  that,"  said  La  Liberte  quickly. 
"  I  know  where  they  sup.  I  will  go  there  and  de 
lay  their  return.  They  are  convivial  youngsters 
and  never  refuse  a  glass  or  two.  In  the  meantime 
you  must  see  to  it  that  those  three  files  of  warrants 
do  not  retain  the  slightest  appearance  of  having 
been  handled.  Be  sure  that  every  object  in  the 
room  is  just  as  you  found  it." 

By  this  time  La  Liberte  was  outside  the  door. 
Looking  back  into  the  room,  she  said :  "  When 
you  have  done  that,  go  down  this  staircase,  cross 
the  street,  and  wait  for  me  in  the  shadow  of  the 
building  opposite.  I  will  then  conduct  you  to  my 
house,"  and  La  Liberty's  feet  sprang  nimbly  down 
the  stairs. 

Quickly  Edrne  picked  up  the  pieces  of  torn  war 
rant,  intending  to  take  them  away  and  burn  them. 
Then  she  turned  her  attention  to  the  documents 
on  the  table,  and  in  a  few  minutes  had  them 
arranged  just  as  she  found  them.  She  placed  the 
chairs  in  a  natural  position  before  the  table,  and 
stepped  back  for  a  final  survey  to  assure  herself 
that  she  had  not  left  a  trace  which  might  arouse 
the  suspicion  of  the  clerks. 

No,  there  was  nothing  that  Hanneton  or  even 
Clement  would  be  likely  to  notice.  She  had  been 
none  too  rapid  in  the  arrangement  of  these  details. 
The  door  of  the  adjoining  chamber  was  unlocked 
and  some  one  entered. 

Edme  could  tell  by  the  footfalls  that  the  person 
was  traversing  the  room  with  measured  tread. 
Then  came  the  sound  of  a  chair  being  drawn  up 


TWO  WOMEN  337 

to  a  desk.  Then  a  dry  cough  echoed  through  the 
deserted  hall  as  a  man  cleared  his  throat. 

Ed  me  gave  a  glance  toward  the  door  that  led 
down  the  staircase  taken  by  La  Liberte.  It  stood 
invitingly  open,  but  to  gain  it  she  would  have  to 
pass  the  door  that  communicated  with  the  tri 
bunal.  This  also  was  open.  She  started  on  tip 
toe  across  the  floor. 

The  words  "  Bring  me  a  light  here,  will  you  ?  " 
fell  upon  her  ears  in  a  harsh  tone  of  authority. 
She  started  at  this  sudden  command.  She  had 
made  no  noise,  yet  the  mysterious  personage 
seemed  to  be  aware  of  her  presence. 

"  In  the  next  room  there,  whoever  you  are, 
bring  in  more  light ;  this  lamp  burns  villainously ! " 

Edme  hesitated  no  longer  but  caught  up  the 
lamp  from  the  table  and  entered  the  tribunal 
chamber.  As  she  obediently  placed  the  light 
upon  the  desk  the  man  who  was  writing  there 
looked  up  with  impatient  gesture.  Although  she 
had  never  seen  him  before,  she  had  heard  him 
described  many  times,  and  she  knew  that  he  was 
Robespierre. 

"  Well !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  who  are  you?  " 

"I  —  I  am  here  in  place  of  the  Citizeness  Pri- 
vat." 

"  The  Citizeness  Privat  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  cleans  up  the  rooms,  and  being  ill "  — 

"  Cleans !  "  repeated  Robespierre  with  a  laugh, 
blowing  the  dust  from  the  top  of  the  table.  "  Is 
that  what  you  call  it  ?  This  Privat  is  like  all  the 
rest,  willing  to  take  the  nation's  pay  and  give 


338  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

nothing  in  return.  And  you  are  also  like  the 
rest,  eh?" 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean.  I  am  doing 
her  work  as  well  as  I  can.  With  your  permission 
I  will  hasten  to  complete  my  task,"  replied  Ednie. 

In  spite  of  her  abhorrence  of  him  she  could  not 
help  looking  at  him  intently,  her  eyes  expressing 
the  horror  which  she  felt.  To  her,  he  was  the 
embodiment  of  all  that  was  evil,  the  very  spirit 
of  the  Revolution.  As  her  glance  rested  upon  the 
white  waistcoat,  fitting  close  to  his  meagre  figure, 
and  as  she  thought  of  the  cruel  heart  that  beat 
beneath  it,  the  vision  of  Charlotte  Corday  and  the 
vile  Marat  flashed  before  her  eyes  with  startling 
vividness. 

What  if  heaven  had  decreed  that  she  should  be 
the  means  of  ridding  the  world  of  this  monster  ? 
What  if  the  opportunity  was  about  to  present  it 
self?  She  pushed  the  thought  away  from  her, 
with  the  inward  supplication,  "  God  keep  me  from 
doing  it." 

Robespierre  noticed  the  look  of  horror  on  her 
face,  and  attributed  it  to  the  fear  his  presence  in 
spired.  His  small  eyes  blinked  complacently. 

"Stay,"  he  said;  "you  have  nothing  to  fear  if 
you  are  a  good  patriotic  citizeness.  And  you  may 
be  pardoned  if  you  neglect  your  work  for  a  few 
minutes  to  converse  with  Robespierre." 

There  was  an  insinuating  softness  in  his  tone  as 
he  spoke  that  made  her  nerves  creep  and  increased 
her  loathing  for  him.  He  sat  leaning  back  negli 
gently  in  his  chair,  and  she  stood  looking  down 


TWO   WOMEN  339 

upon  him  like  some  superb  creature  from  another 
world. 

"  By  the  power  of  beauty,"  he  exclaimed  sud 
denly,  "  you  are  a  glorious  woman  !  I  have  always 
said  that  only  among  women  of  the  people  is  true 
beauty  to  be  found." 

She  neither  moved  nor  spoke,  but  stood  still  as 
a  statue. 

He  leaned  forward  in  his  chair.  "You  shall 
lay  aside  your  broom  and  dust-rags.  I  would  see 
more  of  you.  I  have  it.  You  shall  be  the  God 
dess  of  Beauty  at  our  next  great  fete.  In  that 
role  Robespierre  himself  will  render  you  homage." 
Rising,  he  took  one  of  her  hands  in  his. 

She  shuddered.  It  was  as  if  a  snake  had  coiled 
itself  about  her  fingers.  The  contact  with  her 
soft  hand  sent  just  a  drop  of  blood  to  his  sallow 
cheek. 

"  What  sayst  thou,  O  glorious  creature  ?  Wilt 
thou  be  a  goddess  of  beauty  and  sit  enthroned 
upon  the  Champ  de  Mars,  dressed  in  radiant 
clothing,  instead  of  these  poor  garments  ?  "  He 
spoke  in  low  tones  meant  to  be  tender. 

Again  the  vision  of  Charlotte  Corday  flashed 
before  her. 

"  No,  no  !  "  she  cried  out,  more  in  answer  to  the 
thought  that  terrified  her  than  to  his  question. 

"  Fear  nothing,  fair  one,"  he  said  soothingly. 
"  Robespierre  is  only  terrible  to  the  guilty ;  to  the 
good  he  is  always  magnanimous  and  kind.  Some 
say  that  I  abuse  my  power,  but  that  is  false.  True, 
I  condemn  many,  but  't  is  done  with  justice  ;  and  I 


340  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

also  pardon  many.  Should  I  receive  no  credit  for 
my  clemency?"  he  continued,  as  if  he  were  argu 
ing  with  some  unseen  personage. 

He  released  her  hand  and  leaned  his  elbow  on 
the  desk.  Her  hand  fell  cold  and  numb  to  her 
side,  but  the  spell  in  which  he  had  held  her  was 
broken.  A  sudden  daring  resolve  entered  her 
head. 

"  I  have  been  told  that  you  were  a  cruel  mon 
ster,  who  condemned  for  the  pleasure  of  condemn 
ing;  who  did  not  know  the  meaning  of  clemency," 
she  said,  "  and  therefore  I  am  afraid  of  you." 

"  They  have  maligned  me,"  he  answered. 

"  Will  you  prove  it  by  granting  me  a  pardon, 
one  that  I  can  use  as  I  may  wish  ?  " 

Robespierre  became  alert  on  the  instant. 

"  You  would  set  some  man  at  liberty  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Your  lover,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  I  pray  you,  do  not  ask  me." 

"  Do  not  ask  you !  "  repeated  Robespierre.  "  And 
yet  you  ask  me  to  pardon  him.  Why  should  I 
doit?" 

"  To  prove  that  you  know  what  clemency  is." 

*'  I  would  rather  show  it  in  some  other  way.  I 
should  be  a  fool  to  set  your  lover  at  liberty,  so  that 
you  both  might  laugh  at  me." 

"  I  have  not  said  that  it  was  my  lover." 

"  No,  but  I  say  so." 

"You  said  a  moment  ago  that  you  knew  what 
mercy  was,  yet  you  cannot  understand  my  feeling 
at  the  thought  that  he  must  die." 


TWO  WOMEN  341 

Robespierre  took  up  a  pen  from  the  table  and 
poised  it  over  a  sheet  of  paper.  The  pleading  look 
in  the  beautiful  eyes  gave  him  great  enjoyment, 
and  he  took  a  keen  relish  in  prolonging  it. 

"  A  few  words  from  my  pen,"  he  said  tantaliz- 
ingly,  "  would  set  the  man  at  liberty.  How  would 
you  reward  me  if  I  wrote  them  for  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  pray  you  to  do  so,"  she  cried  out,  throw 
ing  herself  at  his  feet.  "  I  pray  you  to  write 
them.  If  you  have  the  power,  use  it  for  mercy." 

Robespierre  gazed  deep  into  the  eyes  which 
looked  up  at  him  imploringly. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  demanded  with  the  energy 
of  sudden  passion.  "  You  are  no  woman  of  the 
common  people.  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  One  who  would  have  you  do  a  noble  action," 
she  answered.  "One  who  is  pleading  with  you 
for  your  own  soul's  sake." 

"  Whoever  you  may  be,  you  have  bewitched  me. 
Promise  you  will  come  hence  with  me,  and  I  will 
write  the  release." 

"  Write  it,"  she  whispered  faintly. 

Robespierre  dashed  off  a  few  hurried  lines. 

"  What  is  the  fellow's  name  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Sign  the  paper,"  she  murmured,  dropping  her 
eyes.  "  I  implore  you,  do  not  ask  me  his  name. 
Let  me  fill  that  in." 

"  I  will  free  no  man  from  prison  unless  I  know 
his  name,"  replied  Robespierre. 

"  I  will  never  tell  you  that,"  she  replied,  rising 
to  her  feet  and  going  to  the  other  side  of  the  desk, 
"  never." 


342  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  What  foolish  nonsense,"  he  complained,  sign 
ing  his  name.  "  Now,"  he  continued,  shaking  the 
sand  box  over  the  wet  ink,  "  tell  me  his  name, 
and  I  will  send  this  pardon  to  the  conciergerie  at 
once.  See,  I  have  written  '  immediate  release ' 
upon  it.  You  have  only  to  tell  me  his  name.  Do 
you  still  hesitate  ?  " 

There  was  a  sudden  rattle  in  the  drawer  on 
Edme's  side  of  the  desk.  Leaning  forward,  she 
brought  one  hand  down  upon  the  paper,  while 
with  the  other  she  pointed  a  pistol  at  Robespierre's 
head. 

He  turned  deadly  white  and  drew  back  in  his 
chair. 

"  Would  you  murder  me  ?  "  he  gasped  out. 

"  If  you  make  one  movement,"  she  replied, 
"  Marat's  fate  will  be  yours."  He  cringed  further 
away  from  the  muzzle  of  the  weapon  that  stared 
him  in  the  face.  With  one  hand  she  folded  up 
the  document  and  put  it  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress, 
all  the  while  keeping  the  pistol  aimed  steadily  at 
him. 

"  Now,"  she  continued  coolly,  "  you  have  the  key 
of  the  door.  Make  no  movement,"  she  added 
quickly,  bringing  the  pistol  still  nearer  him,  "  but 
tell  me  where  to  find  it." 

"  It  is  in  the  door  now,"  he  snarled. 

She  came  cautiously  around  the  corner  of  the 
desk,  still  keeping  the  weapon  leveled  at  his 
head. 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  sprang  toward  her. 
The  pistol  snapped.  He  caught  her  by  the  wrist. 


WOULD  YOU  MURDER  ME? 


TWO  WOMEN  343 

Then  pinning  both  her  arms  to  her  side  with  his 
arms  about  her  waist  he  breathed  in  her  ear  :  — 

"  You  cannot  fire  a  pistol  that  is  not  loaded, 
though  you  did  startle  me.  Now  give  me  that 
paper." 

Edme  did  not  speak,  but  struggled  desperately 
to  break  from  his  grasp.  She  determined  that  he 
might  kill  her  before  she  would  give  back  the 
paper.  So  fiercely  did  she  struggle  that  he  had  to 
exert  all  his  strength  to  hold  her. 

"  I  '11  have  that  paper  again  if  I  have  to  strangle 
you  to  get  it !  "  he  muttered  through  his  teeth. 
He  succeeded  in  holding  down  both  arms  with  one 
of  his,  leaving  his  left  arm  free. 

Before  he  could  make  use  of  it,  he  felt  himself 
seized  from  behind.  His  nerves,  strained  by  his 
previous  fright,  gave  way  completely  at  this  unex 
pected  attack.  Uttering  a  cry,  he  released  his  hold 
completely. 

"  Save  yourself ;  I  will  not  hold  you  to  your 
promise  !  "  cried  a  voice.  Edme  waited  to  hear 
nothing  more,  but  darted  swiftly  from  the  room, 
leaving  the  baffled  Robespierre  confronted  by  La 
Liberte. 

For  a  moment  he  stood  still,  his  surprise  render 
ing  him  incapable  of  speech  or  action.  La  Liberte 
walked  jauntily  to  the  door  through  which  Edme 
had  just  vanished,  locked  it,  and  stuck  the  key  in 
her  belt  beside  the  knife  she  always  wore  there. 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  are  doing,  you  mad 
creature  ? "  cried  Robespierre,  running  to  the 
door  and  putting  his  hand  upon  the  latch.  "  Un 
lock  this  door  at  once." 


344  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  Wait  a  moment ;  I  have  something  to  say  to 
you,"  was  La  Liberty's  rejoinder. 

"  Give  me  that  key  instantly,  do  you  hear  ?  "  he 
yelled,  stamping  his  foot  upon  the  floor.  "  You  do 
not  know  what  you  are  doing." 

"  I  know,"  said  La  Liberte,  nodding  her  head. 
"  I  have  seen  and  heard  everything ;  I  have  been 
watching  you  from  the  door  of  the  back  stair 
case." 

"  The  back  staircase !  "  exclaimed  Eobespierre, 
starting  toward  it. 

"You  need  not  trouble  to  go  to  it.  I  locked 
that  door  when  I  came  in." 

Robespierre  came  toward  her,  furious  with  pas 
sion.  "  I  will  have  none  of  your  escapades,"  he 
said  fiercely  ;  "  give  me  that  key  or  I  will  "  — 

"  Keep  off !  keep  off  !  "  cried  out  La  Liberte, 
bounding  lightly  out  of  his  reach  with  a  little 
mocking  laugh.  "  Don't  catch  me  about  the  waist ; 
I  carry  my  sting  there." 

"  You  wasp  !  I  will  crush  you  !  "  he  cried  out, 
foaming  with  rage. 

"  Better  take  care  how  you  handle  wasps,"  was 
her  rejoinder  as  she  perched  herself  upon  the  edge 
of  a  desk  and  shook  her  brown  curls  defiantly  at 
him. 

"  Come,  Liberte*,"  he  said,  trying  a  coaxing  tone, 
although  his  anger  almost  choked  him  ;  "  I  know 
you  will  open  the  door  at  once  when  I  tell  you  that 
woman  has  obtained  from  me  by  a  skillful  ruse  a 
pardon  in  blank.  I  don't  know  whose  name  will 
be  filled  in.  Perhaps  some  great  enemy  of  the 


TWO   WOMEN  345 

Republic  will  be  set  at  liberty,  unless  I  can  send 
word  at  once  to  the  conciergerie  and  forestall  it." 

"I  know  who  will  be  liberated,"  sang  La 
Liberte,  swinging  her  feet. 

"  You  do  !  "  vociferated  Eobespierre  in  genuine 
astonishment.  "Is  this  a  plot?  Are  you  con 
cerned  in  it?"  And  he  came  toward  her,  his 
small  eyes  winking  rapidly. 

"  You  don't  get  it  yet,"  laughed  La  Liberte, 
sliding  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  desk.  "  I  ain 
concerned  in  enough  of  a  plot  to  keep  you  from 
sending  to  the  scaffold  a  man  to  whom  I  've  taken 
a  fancy.  I  do  not  very  often  take  a  particular 
interest  in  any  one  person,  but  when  I  do,  it  is 
lasting."  And  she  regarded  him  airily  from  her 
point  of  vantage. 

"  I  '11  send  you  to  the  guillotirfe,"  hissed  Robes 
pierre  between  his  teeth,  striking  his  clenched  fist 
upon  the  desk  in  front  of  him.  "  I  '11  have  you 
arrested  to-night.  I  '11  bear  with  you  no  longer. 
I  have  permitted  you  to  swagger  around  in  public, 
to  come  into  the  Jacobin  Club  and  flourish  your 
pistols,  because  it  amused  the  populace,  and  I 
laughed  with  them  at  your  antics ;  but  now  you 
have  overstepped  the  line.  This  meddling  with 
national  affairs  will  cost  you  your  life." 

For  a  moment  La  Liberte  confronted  him  from 
behind  her  barricade,  her  eyes  darting  fire. 

"  How  dare  you  threaten  me  !  "  she  cried  shrilly. 

"  You  have  conspired  against  the  Republic  ;  you 
shall  pay  for  it,"  he  repeated,  his  fingers  working 
convulsively  as  if  he  would  like  to  lay  hands  upon 
her. 


346  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  My  name  is  La  Liberte,"  she  said  proudly, 
drawing  herself  up.  "  I  am  a  child  of  the  Revolu 
tion.  I  have  drunk  of  her  blood.  Do  you  think, 
Robespierre,  to  terrify  me  with  your  shining  toy, 
the  guillotine  ?  Bah  !  I  snap  my  fingers  at  it ; " 
and  speaking  thus,  she  advanced  toward  him,  one 
hand  resting  on  the  dagger  at  her  hip.  He  fell 
back  before  her,  step  by  step,  until  they  reached 
the  door.  Voices  were  heard  outside  and  some 
one  tried  to  enter. 

"  Break  the  door  down,  whoever  you  are !  " 
cried  Robespierre.  "  Kick  the  panel  in ;  throw 
your  whole  weight  against  it." 

"  We  are  Hanneton  and  Clement,  clerks ;  we 
found  the  rear  doorway  locked  "  — 

"  Break  in,  I  say  !  "  called  out  Robespierre  im 
patiently.  • 

The  hall  reverberated  with  the  noise  of  an  at 
tack  made  by  Hanneton's  heavy  shoes  and  Clem 
ent's  shoulder. 

La  Libertd  inserted  the  key  in  the  lock.  "  I 
might  as  well  open  it  now,"  she  said,  throwing 
back  the  door. 

The  two  clerks  stood  on  the  threshold  in  open- 
mouthed  surprise. 

La  Liberte  passed  them  like  a  fawn  and  sped 
swiftly  down  the  staircase. 

"  We  were  merely  returning  to  finish  up  a  little 
work,"  stammered  Clement,  who  was  the  first  to 
recover  the  use  of  his  tongue ;  "  but  if  we  in 
trude  "  — 

"Come   in,"  interrupted   Robespierre   quickly. 


TWO  WOMEN  347 

"  I  have  an  errand  of  importance  for  you."  Seat 
ing  himself  at  a  table,  he  dashed  off  two  short 
notes.  The  clerks  exchanged  glances  from  time  to 
time. 

"  Here  !  "  said  Robespierre  looking  at  Clement, 
and  sealing  the  letters  as  he  spoke.  "  You  look 
the  less  stupid.  Take  this  at  once  to  the  keeper  of 
the  conciergerie,  then  report  to  me  in  person  at 
my  house.  You  other  fellow,  take  this  to  Com 
mandant  Henriot.  You  will  find  him  either  at 
the  Hotel  de  Ville  or  at  the  Jacobin  Club.  Tell 
him  to  report  to  me  in  person.  Now  go,  both  of 
you." 

The  two  clerks  did  not  wait  to  be  twice  bidden, 
and  Robespierre  followed  them  from  the  room. 

An  hour  later  the  commandant  stood  before  the 
president  of  the  committee  in  his  own  house. 

"  Well,"  asked  Robespierre,  "  have  you  exe 
cuted  the  warrant  ?  " 

"  The  Citizeness  Liberte  has  been  incarcerated 
in  the  Luxembourg  prison,"  was  the  reply. 

Robespierre's  eyes  blinked  rapidly.  "  She  is  a 
child  of  the  Revolution,"  he  repeated  softly,  "  and 
does  not  fear  my  toy." 

Upon  Henriot's  heels  entered  Clement.  Robes 
pierre  turned  to  him  eagerly. 

"  Fifteen  minutes  before  I  reached  the  concier 
gerie,  a  prisoner,  named  Robert  Tournay,  was  lib 
erated  on  a  release  signed  by  you,  citizen  presi 
dent.  It  was  delivered  by  a  woman,"  was  the  brief 
report. 

An  oath  sprang  to  Robespierre's  lips.     "  Tour- 


348  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

nay  !  "  he  cried  out.  "  So  it  was  Tournay  whom 
that  woman  has  freed.  The  man  is  dangerous," 
he  continued,  speaking  to  himself.  "  He  should 
have  perished  long  ago  had  I  not  wished  to  get  at 
Hoche  through  him.  But  he  shall  not  escape  me ; 
nor  shall  the  woman." 

"Henriot,"  he  exclaimed  in  his  next  breath, 
"  order  every  route  leading  out  of  the  city  guarded. 
Lodge  information  at  every  section  for  the  arrest 
of  Robert  Tournay,  and  of  one  other,  a  woman." 
"  Yes,  citizen  president,  and  who  "  — 
"  Wait,  I  will  write  her  description  for  you," 
cried  Robespierre.  "  There  it  is.  Now  be  prompt, 
my  patriot.  We  can  still  recapture  our  prisoner, 
and  then  "  —  He  did  not  complete  the  sentence, 
but  his  teeth  came  together  with  a  snap,  and  he 
drew  his  thin  lips  over  them  tightly. 


CHAPTER   XXV 
NO.  7  RUE  D'ARCIS 

THE  order  signed  by  Robespierre  for  the  imme 
diate  release  of  a  prisoner  had  not  been  ques 
tioned  by  the  keeper  of  the  conciergerie,  and 
within  a  few  minutes  from  the  time  when  Edme 
presented  the  document  with  a  heart  fluctuating 
between  the  wildest  hope  and  the  greatest  fear, 
Colonel  Tournay  walked  out  of  the  prison  a  free 
man. 

The  sudden  manner  of  his  release,  the  fact  that 
it  had  been  effected  by  Edme's  own  daring  and 
sagacity,  and  that  he  owed  his  life  to  her  whom 
he  loved,  made  his  brain  reel.  Then  the  recog 
nition  of  the  danger  that  still  menaced  him,  and 
above  all  the  woman  who  was  by  his  side,  brought 
him  back  to  himself,  and  he  was  again  cool,  alert, 
and  determined  as  she  had  always  known  him. 
Drawing  her  arm  through  his  and  walking  rapidly 
in  the  shadows  of  Rue  Barillerie,  he  said  quickly:  — 

"  The  pursuit  will  be  instant.  Robespierre  will 
ransack  all  Paris  to  find  us.  But  I  know  a  hiding- 
place.  Come  quickly." 

She  looked  up  at  him.  "  I  feel  perfectly  safe 
now,"  she  said,  and  together  they  hurried  onward. 

Suddenly  she  stopped.     "  But  how  about  Aga- 


350  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

tha !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  the  thought  of  her  faith 
ful  companion  came  to  her  mind  for  the  time. 

"Agatha!  Where  is  she?"  asked  Tournay 
almost  impatiently,  chafing  at  a  moment's  delay. 

"  At  the  Citizeness  Privates  in  the  Rue  Vau- 
girard.  They  will  surely  find  and  arrest  her. 
Robert,  we  must  not  let  them." 

"  The  delay  may  mean  the  difference  between 
life  and  death,"  replied  Tournay,  turning  in  the 
direction  of  the  Rue  Vaugirard ;  "  but  we  must 
not  let  Agatha  fall  into  Robespierre's  clutches." 

In  a  few  minutes  they  passed  up  the  Rue  Vau 
girard.  "  Which  is  the  house  ?  "  asked  Tournay 
anxiously. 

"  There ;  the  small  one  with  the  blinds  drawn 
down.  Agatha  will  be  anxiously  waiting  for  me, 
I  know.  There  she  is  now  in  the  doorway.  She 
sees  us  !  Agatha,  quick !  Never  mind  your  hat 
or  cloak.  Ask  no  questions.  Now  Robert,  take 
us  where  you  will." 

Passing  Edme's  arm  through  his  own,  and  with 
Agatha  on  the  other  side,  Tournay  conducted  the 
two  women  rapidly  down  the  street. 

At  the  same  moment  gendarmes  were  running 
in  all  directions  carrying  Robespierre's  orders. 

Two  of  them  hastened  to  the  house  of  Citizeness 
Privat.  They  found  her  in  bed.  Awakened  from 
her  sleep,  she  could  only  give  meagre  information 
about  her  lodgers.  There  were  two  of  them  ;  one, 
she  thought,  was  still  in  the  room  across  the  hall. 
A  tall  gendarme  opened  the  door  and  walked  in 
without  ceremony.  He  found  the  room  empty, 


NO.   7  RUE  D'ARCIS  351 

although  a  few  articles  of  feminine  apparel  indi 
cated  that  it  had  been  occupied  recently. 

"  Hem  !  "  sniffed  the  tall  gendarme,  "  women  !  " 
Then  he  called  in  his  companions,  and  they  pro 
ceeded  to  examine  everything  in  the  hope  of  find 
ing  a  clue. 

At  that  moment  Robert  Tournay,  Edme,  and 
Agatha  were  approaching  the  Rue  d'Arcis. 

"  It  is  only  a  step  from  here,"  said  Tournay 
encouragingly  as  they  crossed  the  bridge  St.  Mi 
chel.  "  Once  there  we  cannot  be  safer  anywhere 
in  Paris.  I  know  of  the  place  from  a  fellow  pris 
oner  in  the  Luxembourg." 

They  passed  through  a  narrow  passageway  and 
underneath  some  houses,  and  emerged  into  the 
Rue  d'Arcis.  Crossing  the  street,  and  looking 
carefully  in  both  directions  to  see  if  they  were 
unobserved,  Tournay  struck  seven  quick  low  notes 
with  the  knocker  on  the  door.  They  waited  in 
silence  for  some  time ;  then  Tournay  repeated 
the  knocking  a  little  louder  than  before.  They 
waited  again  and  listened  intently.  Edme's  teeth 
began  to  chatter  with  nervous  excitement,  and 
Tournay  looked  once  more  apprehensively  up  and 
down  the  street. 

"  Who  knocks  ?  "  was  the  question  breathed 
gently  through  a  small  aperture  in  the  door. 

"  From  Raphael,"  whispered  Tournay,  "  open 
quickly." 

"  Enter." 

The  door  swung  inward  on  its  hinges,  and  the 
three  fugitives  hastened  to  accept  the  hospitality 
offered  them. 


352  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

It  was  an  old  man  who  answered  their  summons 
and  who  closed  the  door  carefully  after  them.  He 
now  stood  before  them  shading  with  his  palm 
a  candle,  which  the  draft,  blowing  through  the 
large  empty  corridors,  threatened  to  extinguish 
altogether.  The  dancing  flame  threw  grotesque 
shadows  on  the  wall.  As  the  light  played  upon 
the  features  of  the  old  man,  first  touching  his  white 
beard  and  then  shining  upon  his  serene  brow, 
Edme  thought  she  looked  upon  a  face  familiar  to 
her  in  the  past,  but,  no  sign  of  recognition  appear 
ing  in  the  eyes  that  met  her  gaze,  she  attributed  it 
to  fancy. 

"  Your  name  is  Beaurepaire  ?  "  inquired  Tour- 
nay. 

"  That  is  my  name,"  was  the  old  man's  answer. 

In  a  few  words  Colonel  Tournay  told  of  his 
acquaintance  with  St.  Hilaire,  and  explained  how, 
had  their  plan  of  escape  succeeded,  they  would 
have  come  there  together.  Unfortunately  he  alone 
had  escaped,  —  and  now  came  to  ask  that  he  and 
his  two  companions  might  remain  there  in  hiding 
for  a  few  days. 

"  You  came  from  Kaphael,"  replied  Beaure 
paire  with  the  dignity  of  an  earlier  time.  "  The 
length  of  your  stay  is  to  be  determined  by  your 
own  desire." 

He  led  the  way  along  the  corridor,  down  a  short 
flight  of  steps,  through  a  covered  passageway,  into 
what  appeared  to  be  an  adjoining  house ;  Tournay 
asked  no  questions,  but,  with  Edme  and  Agatha, 
followed  blindly. 


NO.   7  RUE  D'ARCIS  353 

Their  aged  conductor  ushered  them  into  a  large 
room,  which  had  formerly  been  a  handsome  salon ; 
but  the  few  articles  of  furniture  still  remaining 
in  it  were  decrepit  and  dusty.  The  once  pol 
ished  floor  was  sadly  marred,  and  appeared  to 
have  remained  unswept  for  years.  The  room  was 
wainscoted  in  dark  wood  to  the  height  of  six  feet, 
and  upon  the  wall  above  it  hung  portraits  of  la 
dies  and  gentlemen  of  the  house  of  St.  Hilaire. 
Here  they  had  hung  for  years  before  the  Revolu 
tion,  dusty  and  forgotten. 

At  the  end  and  along  one  side  of  the  room  ran 
a  gallery  which  was  reached  by  a  short  straight 
flight  of  stairs,  and  around  this  gallery  from  floor 
to  ceiling  were  shelves  of  books. 

Beaurepaire  mounted  the  stairs,  and  looking 
among  the  books  as  if  searching  for  a  certain  vol 
ume,  pushed  back  part  of  a  bookcase  and  revealed 
a  door.  He  motioned  them  to  ascend. 

"  In  here,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a  small  room 
with  low-studded  ceiling,  "  the  two  ladies  can  re 
tire.  It  is  the  only  room  in  the  house  suitable  for 
their  comfort.  You,  sir,"  he  continued,  looking 
at  Colonel  Tournay,  "  will  have  to  lie  here  upon 
the  gallery  floor.  There  is  only  a  rug  to  soften 
the  oak  boards,  but  you  are,  I  see,  a  soldier.  To 
morrow  I  will  see  what  can  be  done  to  make  the 
place  more  habitable." 

Edme  and  Agatha  passed  through  the  aperture 
in  the  wall,  the  venerable  Beaurepaire  bowing  low 
before  them. 

"  At  daylight  I  will  bring  you  some  food ;  until 


354  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

then  I  wish  you  good  repose."  He  withdrew,  and 
Colonel  Tournay  was  left  to  stretch  himself  out 
upon  the  gallery  floor  to  get  what  sleep  he  could. 

It  was  daylight  when  he  opened  his  eyes,  and 
looking  through  the  balustrade  to  the  room  below, 
saw  a  loaf  of  bread,  some  grapes,  and  a  steaming 
pitcher  of  hot  milk  set  on  a  large  mahogany  table 
which  stood  against  the  wall.  He  had  evidently 
been  awakened  by  the  entrance  of  his  host,  for 
the  figure  of  Beaurepaire  was  standing  with  his 
back  to  him,  looking  out  of  the  window  into  the 
courtyard.  The  colonel  kicked  aside  the  rugs  which 
had  served  him  for  a  bed,  and  rising  to  his  feet, 
started  to  descend. 

The  figure  at  the  window  turned  at  the  sound  of 
the  tread  upon  the  stairs,  and  Tournay  stopped 
short  with  one  hand  on  the  rail.  "  He  has  shaved 
off  his  flowing  beard  overnight,"  was  his  astonished 
thought.  Then  the  next  instant  he  recognized 
that  it  was  not  Beaurepaire,  but  Father  Ambrose, 
the  old  priest  of  La  Thierry,  who  stood  before 
him. 

The  latter  approached  with  his  usual  dignity. 

"Father  Ambrose,"  exclaimed  Tournay  in  sur 
prise,  "  how  can  this  be  ?  Who,  then,  is  this  Beau 
repaire  ?  " 

"  He  is  my  brother.  I  have  lived  here  for  more 
than  six  months.  I  saw  you  when  you  came  last 
night,  but  waited  until  now  before  making  myself 
known.  Inform  me,  my  good  sir,  how  fares  it  with 
Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort  ?  " 

"  You  shall  see  her  presently.     She  and  Agatha 


NO.   7  RUE  D'ARCIS  355 

are  in  the  chamber  behind  the  secret  panel.  They 
are  doubtless  much  fatigued  from  the  excitement 
of  yesterday,  and  we  would  better  let  them  sleep 
as  long  as  they.  can.  In  the  meantime  I  will 
eat  some  of  this  food,  for  I  am  desperately  hun- 


"  Do  so,  my  son,"  replied  the  priest.  "  I  would 
eat  with  you,  but  for  the  fact  that  I  never  break 
my  fast  before  noon." 

Tournay  helped  himself  to  a  generous  slice  of 
bread  and  a  bunch  of  grapes. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  asked,  as  he  began  on  the  luscious 
fruit,  "  how  do  you  obtain  the  necessities  of  life  ? 
Do  you  dare  venture  out  to  buy  them  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  set  my  foot  outside  the  door  since 
I  first  entered.  All  the  communication  with  the 
outside  world  has  been  held  by  my  brother,  who 
has  managed  to  keep  free  from  suspicion,  and  who 
goes  and  comes  in  his  quiet  way  as  the  occasion 
arises." 

A  knock  upon  the  door  brought  Tournay  to  his 
feet.  He  stopped  with  the  pitcher  of  milk  in  one 
hand  and  looked  at  Father  Ambrose. 

"  There  is  no  cause  for  alarm,"  said  the  priest  ; 
"  it  is  my  brother's  knock  ;  "  and  going  to  the 
door  he  drew  back  the  bolt. 

Tournay  set  down  the  milk  jug  untasted,  with 
an  exclamation  of  surprise,  as  he  saw  Gaillard 
burst  into  the  room,  followed  by  the  old  man 
Beaurepaire.  The  actor,  no  longer  dressed  in  the 
disguise  of  an  old  man,  was  greatly  excited. 

"  Great  news,  my  colonel  !  "  he  exclaimed  with- 


356  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

out  stopping  to  explain  how  he  had  found  his  way 
there.  "Robespierre  has  been  arrested  by  the 
convention." 

Tournay  sprang  forward  and  grasped  his  friend 
by  both  shoulders.  "  At  last  they  have  done  it !  " 
he  cried  excitedly.  "  Gaillard,  tell  me  about  it. 
How  was  it  brought  about  ?  " 

"  Embrace  me  again,  my  colonel,"  exclaimed 
Gaillard,  throwing  his  arms  about  Tournay  and 
talking  all  the  time.  "  It  was  this  way  :  I  heard 
the  cry  in  the  streets  that  the  convention  had 
risen  almost  to  a  man  and  arrested  Robespierre 
and  a  few  of  his  nearest  satellites.  At  once  I  ran 
to  the  conciergerie  to  try  and  see  you.  Every 
thing  was  in  confusion.  The  news  of  Robespierre's 
arrest  had  just  reached  there.  '  Can  I  see  Colonel 
Tournay  ? '  I  demanded  of  the  jailer. 

"  4  He  is  not  here,'  he  answered,  turning  from 
me  to  a  dozen  other  excited  questioners. 

44  4  He  has  not  been  sent  to  the  guillotine  ? '  I 
cried,  with  my  heart  in  my  mouth. 

44  4  No  ;  liberated  by  Robespierre's  order  last 
night.' 

44  4  What ! '    I  shouted,  thinking  the  man  mad. 

44  4  The  order  was  countermanded  fifteen  minutes 
after  the  citizen  colonel  had  left  the  prison,'  cried 
the  warden  in  reply.  4  Don't  ask  me  any  more 
questions.  My  head  is  in  a  whirl;  I  cannot 
think.' 

44 1,  myself,  was  so  excited  I  could  not  think ; 
but  when  I  collected  my  few  senses  I  recollected 
that  St.  Hilaire  had  told  you  of  a  place  of  refuge 


NO.   7  RUE  D'ARCIS  357 

in  case  of  emergency.  '  My  little  colonel  is  there,' 
I  said  to  myself,  and  flew  here  on  the  wind. 
Everywhere  along  the  way  people  were  congratu 
lating  one  another.  The  greatest  excitement  pre 
vailed.  No  notice  was  taken  of  an  old  man  of 
eighty  running  like  a  lad  of  sixteen.  When  I 
reached  your  door  I  took  off  my  wig  and  beard 
and  put  them  in  my  pocket.  Ah,  my  colonel,  we 
shall  wear  our  own  faces ;  we  shall  speak  our  own 
minds,  now  that  the  tyrant  himself  is  in  the  toils." 

"  Will  they  be  able  to  keep  him  there  ?  "  asked 
Father  Ambrose ;  "  he  will  not  yield  without  a 
struggle.  The  Jacobins  may  try  to  arouse  the 
masses  to  rescue  him." 

"  The  populace  is  seething  with  excitement," 
said  Gaillard.  "  Some  quarters  of  the  town  are 
for  the  fallen  tyrant ;  others  are  against  him.  In 
the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  the  stronghold  of  the 
Jacobins,  Robespierre  is  openly  denounced  by 
some,  yet  his  adherents  are  still  strong  there  and 
are  arming  themselves.  The  convention  stands  firm 
as  a  rock.  '  Down  with  the  tyrant ! '  is  the  cry." 

"There  is  work  for  us,"  exclaimed  Tournay. 
"  Father  Ambrose,"  he  continued,  turning  to  the 
priest,  "  I  must  go  out  at  once.  I  leave  you  to 
tell  the  news  to  Mademoiselle  de  Rochefort.  Tell 
her  to  remain  here  in  the  strictest  seclusion  until 
I  return  and  assure  her  that  we  can  leave  here 
in  safety.  I  leave  her  in  your  keeping,  Father 
Ambrose.  Now,  Gaillard,  let  us  go." 

In  the  streets,  Tournay  found  that  his  friend 
had  not  exaggerated  the  popular  excitement.  As 


358  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

they  walked  along  both  he  and  Gaillard  kept  their 
ears  alert  to  hear  everything  that  was  said. 

Suddenly  a  noise  caused  them  to  stop  and  look 
into  each  other's  faces  with  consternation. 

"  The  tumbrils !  "  exclaimed  Gaillard,  in  answer 
to  Tournay's  look. 

44  That  looks  bad  for  our  party,"  said  Tournay. 
"  One  would  expect  the  executions  to  cease,  or  at 
least  be  suspended,  on  the  day  of  Robespierre's 
arrest." 

"  There  is  no  one  to  give  a  coherent  order," 
replied  Gaillard.  "  Some  of  the  prison  governors 
do  not  know  which  way  to  turn,  or  whom  to  obey. 
The  same  with  the  police.  They  need  a  leader." 

As  he  spoke  they  turned  into  the  Rue  Vaugirard 
and  saw  coming  toward  them  down  the  street  two 
death  carts,  escorted  by  a  dozen  gendarmes.  The 
street  was  choked  with  a  howling  mass  of  people, 
and  from  their  shouts  it  was  manifest  that  some 
were  demanding  that  the  carts  be  sent  back,  while 
others  were  equally  vociferous  in  urging  them  on. 
Meanwhile,  the  gendarmes  stolidly  made  their 
way  through  the  crowd  as  best  they  could. 

Many  of  the  occupants  of  the  tumbrils  leaned 
supplicatingly  over  the  sides  of  the  carts  and  im 
plored  the  people  to  save  them. 

The  crowd  finally  became  so  large  as  to  impede 
the  further  progress  of  the  carts. 

"  My  God  I  "  cried  Tournay,  grasping  Gaillard 
by  the  arm.  "  There  is  St.  Hilaire." 

In  the  second  cart  stood  the  Citizen  St.  Hilaire. 
He  held  himself  erect  and  stood  motionless,  his 


NO.   7  RUE   D'ARCIS  359 

arms,  like  those  of  the  rest  of  the  prisoners,  tightly 
pinioned  behind  him.  But  it  could  be  seen  that 
he  was  addressing  the  populace  and  exciting  their 
sympathy.  By  his  side  was  Madame  d'Arlin- 
court,  her  large  blue  eyes  fixed  intently  upon 
St.  Hilaire ;  she  seemed  unmindful  of  the  scene 
around  her,  and  to  be  already  in  another  world. 

In  the  rear  of  the  cart,  dressed  in  white,  was 
La  Liberte.  Her  face  was  flushed  and  animated, 
and  she  was  talking  loudly  and  rapidly  to  the 
crowd  which  followed  the  tumbril. 

Tournay  sprang  to  the  head  of  the  procession. 
He  still  wore  his  uniform,  and  the  crowd  made 
way  for  him. 

"  Why  did  you  take  these  tumbrils  out  to-day?" 
he  demanded  of  the  gendarmes.  "Do  you  not 
know  that  Robespierre  is  in  prison  and  the  execu 
tions  are  to  be  stopped  ?  " 

"  I  have  my  orders  from  the  keeper  of  the  Lux 
embourg.  I  am  to  take  these  tumbrils  to  the 
Place  de  la  Revolution,"  replied  the  officer ;  then 
addressing  the  crowd,  he  cried,  "  Make  way  there, 
citizens,  make  way  there  and  let  us  proceed !  " 

"  No,  no ! "  cried  a  great  number  of  voices, 
while  others  cried  out,  "  Yes,  make  way  !  "  But 
all  still  blocked  the  passage  of  the  carts. 

"  The  keeper  of  the  Luxembourg  had  no  au 
thority  to  order  the  execution  of  these  prisoners 
to-day.  Take  them  at  once  back  to  the  prison," 
ordered  Tournay. 

"  Where  is  your  authority  ?  Show  it  to  me  and 
I  will  obey  you,"  replied  the  police  officer. 


360  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  This  is  not  a  day  on  which  we  present  written 
authority,"  answered  Tournay.  "  I  tell  you  I 
have  the  right  to  order  you  back  to  the  prison. 
It  is  the  will  of  the  convention." 

"  I  take  my  orders  from  the  Commune,"  replied 
the  gendarme  stubbornly.  "  I  must  go  forward." 

Gaillard  had  meantime  worked  his  way  to  Tour- 
nay's  shoulder,  and  the  latter  said  a  few  words  in 
his  ear.  Gaillard  plunged  into  the  crowd  and  was 
off  like  a  shot  in  the  direction  of  the  convention. 

"  Citizens,  let  us  pass !  "  cried  the  gendarmes 
impatiently. 

"  Citizens,"  Tournay  cried  out  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  it  is  the  will  of  the  convention  that  no  execu 
tions  take  place  to-day.  These  carts  must  not  go. 
I  call  upon  you  to  help  me."  As  he  spoke  he  ran 
to  the  horses'  heads.  The  crowd  swept  the  gen 
darmes  to  one  side,  and  in  a  moment's  time  the 
tumbrils  were  turned  about. 

Then  a  clatter  of  hoofs  was  heard,  accompanied 
by  angry  shouts,  and  the  crowd  broke  and  scattered 
in  all  directions,  as  Commandant  Henriot,  followed 
by  a  troop  of  mounted  police,  rode  through  them. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  he  roared  out. 

"  Where  shall  we  go,  back  to  the  Luxembourg 
or  forward  to  the  Place  de  la  Ee volution  ?  "  cried 
out  the  bewildered  gendarmes  who  guarded  the 
tumbrils. 

"  To  the  guillotine,  of  course,  always  the  guillo 
tine,"  answered  Henriot.  "About,  face!  Citi 
zens,  disperse ! " 

The  crowd  had  closed  up  and  were  muttering 


NO.  7  RUE  D'ARCIS  361 

their  disapproval,  many  even  going  so  far  as  to 
flourish  weapons. 

"  Citizens,"  cried  Tournay  fearlessly,  "  this  man 
Henriot  has  been  indicted  by  the  convention.  He 
should  now  be  a  prisoner  with  Robespierre." 

"Charge  the  crowd!"  yelled  Henriot  to  his 
lieutenant.  "  I  will  deal  with  this  fellow ;  I  know 
him.  His  name  is  Tournay."  And  he  rode  his 
horse  at  the  colonel. 

The  latter  sprang  to  one  side,  and  seizing  a 
sword  from  a  gendarme,  parried  the  trust  of  Hen- 
riot's  weapon.  Catching  the  horse  by  the  bridle, 
he  struck  an  upward  blow  at  the  commandant. 
The  animal  plunged  forward  and  Tournay  was 
thrown  to  the  pavement,  while  the  crowd  fled  be 
fore  the  charge  of  the  mounted  troops. 

Before  Henriot  could  wheel  his  charger,  Tour- 
nay  was  on  his  feet,  and  realizing  the  impossibility 
of  rallying  any  forces  to  contend  with  Henriot's, 
he  took  the  first  corner  and  made  the  best  of  his 
way  up  a  narrow  and  deserted  street. 

He  was  somewhat  shaken  and  bruised  from  his 
encounter,  and  stopping  to  recover  breath  for  the 
first  time,  he  noticed  that  the  blood  was  flowing 
freely  from  a  cut  over  the  forehead  which  he  had 
received  during  the  short  melee. 

As  he  stanched  the  wound  with  his  handker 
chief,  he  heard  footsteps  behind  him,  and  turning, 
saw  a  man  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  his  own  regi 
ment  running  toward  him.  Wiping  the  blood 
from  his  eyes,  he  recognized  Captain  Dessarts  who 
had  served  with  him  for  the  past  year. 


362  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

"  You  are  wounded,  colonel ! "  exclaimed  Des- 
sarts,  taking  the  hand  which  Tournay  stretched 
out  to  him.  "  Can  I  assist  you? " 

"  It  is  only  a  scalp  wound,  but  it  bleeds  villain 
ously.  You  can  tie  this  handkerchief  about  my 
head  if  you  will." 

"  I  tried  to  help  you  rally  the  crowd,  my  colo 
nel,  but  it  was  hopeless.  Yet  with  a  few  good  sol 
diers  behind  his  back,  one  could  easily  have  cleared 
the  streets  of  those  hulking  gendarmes.  Do  I  hurt 
you  ?  "  he  continued  as  he  tied  the  knot. 

"  No,"  answered  Tournay.  "  Tie  it  quickly  and 
then  come  with  me." 

"  I  must  go  to  the  barracks,  Colonel  Tournay," 
replied  Dessarts.  "Your  old  regiment  has  been 
disbanded.  I  am  here  with  my  company,  ordered 
to  join  another  regiment  and  proceed  to  the  Yen- 
dee." 

"  Where  are  your  men  quartered  ?  "  asked  Tour- 
nay  excitedly. 

"  Two  streets  above  here." 

"  Will  they  obey  you  absolutely  ?  " 

"  To  the  last  man,  my  colonel." 

"  Will  you  follow  me  without  a  question? " 

"  To  the  death,  my  colonel." 

"  Come  then,  and  bring  me  to  your  men  at  once. 
Every  instant  is  worth  a  life.  Let  us  run." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE   END   OF  THE  TERROR 

SURROUNDED  by  Henriot's  mounted  guards,  the 
tumbrils  lumbered  slowly  to  the  Place  de  la  Revo- 
lution.  There  a  large  crowd  had  assembled  to 
witness  the  daily  tribute  to  the  guillotine. 

"  You  shall  not  be  disappointed,  my  patriots  !  " 
cried  Henriot. 

They  answered  him  with  a  cheer.  The  crowd 
here  was  in  sympathy  with  him,  and  he  felt  grimly 
cheerful. 

"  My  friends,  you  will  cheer  again  when  you 
learn  that  one  hour  ago  Robespierre  was  set  free 
by  me.  The  convention  is  trembling.  The  Com 
mune  triumphs." 

Again  the  crowd  cheered. 

Henriot  rode  up  to  the  guillotine. 

"  Sanson,"  he  cried  out  to  the  executioner,  "  here 
is  your  daily  allowance.  We  have  kept  you  wait 
ing,  but  you  can  now  use  dispatch." 

The  occupants  in  the  tumbrils  had  seen  their 
last  hope  of  deliverance  vanish  in  the  Rue  Vaugi- 
rard.  They  were  fully  prepared  for  death.  One 
after  another  they  mounted  the  fatal  scaffold  and 
were  led  to  the  guillotine. 

Some  went  bravely  forward  to  meet  their  fate. 


364  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Others  almost  fainted  and  were  nearly  dead  from 
fear  by  the  time  they  reached  the  hands  of  Sanson. 

La  Liberte  came  forward  with  a  firm  step.  As 
she  did  so,  the  crowd  set  up  a  deafening  shout. 
It  was  a  shout  of  genuine  astonishment  at  the 
sight  of  this  well-known  figure,  though  mingled 
with  it  were  cries  of  satisfaction  from  those  who 
had  been  jealous  of  her  popularity.  Some  thought 
it  was  a  new  escapade  on  her  part,  and  they  ap 
plauded  it  all  the  louder  because  of  its  daring 
nature. 

Even  the  red-handed  Sanson  opened  his  huge 
bull's-mouth  with  surprise  as  she  appeared  before 
him. 

"  Bon  jour,  Sanson,"  said  she  airily  ;  "  you  did 
not  look  for  me  to-day,  I  imagine.  Do  not  touch 
me,"  she  exclaimed  as  he  stretched  out  his  large 
hand  towards  her.  "  I  have  sent  too  many  along 
this  road,  not  to  know  the  way  myself,  alone." 
Then  walking  down  until  she  stood  under  the  very 
shadow  of  the  knife  she  looked  out  over  the  sea 
of  faces. 

The  mighty  yell  was  repeated. 

The  pallor  of  approaching  death  was  on  her 
face,  but  unflinchingly  she  met  the  gaze  of  thou 
sands,  while  with  a  toss  of  her  chestnut  curls  she 
surveyed  them  proudly,  taking  the  shouts  as  a 
tribute  to  herself. 

Suddenly  her  face  became  animated  and  the 
color  rushed  back  to  her  cheeks. 

"  Well  done,  my  compatriot ! "  she  exclaimed 
aloud ;  she  no  longer  saw  the  crowd  at  her  feet, 


THE  END  OF  THE  TERROR  365 

but  stood  transfixed,  her  gaze  on  the  further  cor 
ner  of  the  square. 

There  Kobert  Tournay,  at  the  head  of  some  of 
his  own  men,  charged  upon  Henriot's  troops.  Steel 
clashed  upon  steel,  and  Tournay's  men  pressed  on. 

"  Bravely  struck,  my  compatriot.  Well  parried, 
my  compatriot.  That  was  worthy  of  my  brave 
colonel.  One  little  moment,  Sanson,"  she  pleaded 
as  the  burly  executioner  caught  her  by  the  arm. 

"  You  have  had  twice  the  allotted  time  already," 
he  objected ;  "  you  are  keeping  the  others  waiting." 

"  One  more  look,  Sanson,  just  one !  Ah,  well 
done,  my  brave." 

"  En  avant,"  said  the  ruthless  Sanson. 

"  Good-by,  compatriot,"  murmured  La  Liber  te, 
a  tear  glistening  in  her  eye.  The  knife  descended, 
and  La  Liberte  was  no  more. 

"  Another !  "  said  the  insatiable  executioner, 
extending  his  huge  hands  towards  the  cart. 

St.  Hilaire  looked  into  Madame  d'Arlincourt's 
face.  Their  eyes  met  full. 

"  Madame,"  he  said,  "  in  such  a  case  as  this  you 
will  pardon  me  if  I  precede  you,"  and  stepping  in 
front  of  her  he  walked  quietly  up  the  scaffold. 

Meantime  Colonel  Tournay,  with  Captain  Des- 
sarts  at  his  shoulder  and  a  company  of  his  own 
troops  behind  him,  had  dashed  out  of  a  side  street 
into  the  Place  de  la  Revolution. 

Tournay,  with  the  ends  of  the  blood-stained  ker 
chief  flapping  on  his  forehead,  and  the  sword 
wrested  from  the  gendarme  waving  in  his  hand, 
urged  his  men  forward. 


366  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

Commandant  Henriot,  his  forces  augmented  by 
a  company  of  civic  guards,  charged  upon  them. 
The  commandant's  men  outnumbered  those  led 
by  the  colonel,  two  to  one,  but  in  the  shock  that 
followed  the  tried  veterans  held  together  like  a 
granite  wall,  and  broke  through  Henriot's  troops, 
hurling  them  in  disorder  to  the  right  and  left  of 
the  square. 

Tournay  saw  the  white-clad  figure  of  La  Lib- 
erts  disappear  under  the  glittering  knife.  He  saw 
St.  Hilaire  standing  on  the  scaffold  with  head 
turned  toward  Madame  d'Arlincourt. 

"  Soldiers,  on  to  the  guillotine ! "  cried  the 
colonel,  dashing  forward  at  full  speed. 

The  populace,  who,  between  the  blood  of  the 
executions  and  the  battle  going  on  in  the  square, 
were  mad  with  excitement,  pressed  forward,  and 
circled  about  the  scaffold,  angrily  menacing  the 
approaching  troops,  who  seemed  about  to  put  an 
end  to  their  entertainment. 

"  Sweep  them  away !  "  cried  Tournay  ruthlessly, 
his  eye  still  upon  the  scaffold  where  St.  Hilaire 
stood.  "  Use  the  bayonet !  " 

Meanwhile  Henriot,  by  desperate  efforts,  had 
rallied  his  own  troopers  at  the  other  side  of  the 
square,  while  his  civic  guards,  having  no  further 
stomach  for  the  fray,  had  fled  incontinently. 

"  Colonel,  they  are  about  to  attack  us  in  the 
rear,"  said  Dessarts  warningly. 

Tournay  wheeled  his  men  about  as  the  enemy 
rode  at  them  for  a  second  time.  Henriot,  with  his 
brandy-swollen  face  purple  with  excitement,  was 


THE  END   OF  THE  TERROR  367 

reeling  drunk  in  his  saddle,  yet  he  plunged  for 
ward  with  the  desperate  courage  of  a  baited  bull. 

"  Down  with  the  traitor  !  "  he  yelled.  "  The 
Commune  must  triumph ;  Robespierre  is  free,  and 
the  Republic  lives." 

With  the  answering  cry  of  "  Long  live  the  Re 
public  !  "  Tournay's  men  braced  themselves  firmly 
together. 

"  Fire !  "  commanded  the  colonel.  A  deadly 
volley  poured  into  the  commandant's  forces. 

"  Charge !  " 

Henriot's  troops  were  dashed  back,  scattered  in 
all  directions,  and  their  drunken  commander,  put 
ting  spurs  to  his  horse,  fled  cursing  from  the 
scene. 

The  populace,  now  thoroughly  dismayed  and 
frightened,  parted  on  all  sides  before  the  soldiers. 
Tournay  ran  to  the  guillotine.  He  leaped  up  the 
steps  of  the  scaffold. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  convention,  halt ! "  he 
cried. 

"I  know  nothing  about  the  convention,"  pro 
tested  Sanson,  laying  his  hand  upon  St.  Hilaire's 
shoulder.  "  This  man  is  sent  to  me  to  be  guillo 
tined  —  and  "  — 

Tournay  threw  the  executioner  from  the  plat 
form  to  the  ground  below,  and  cutting  the  cords 
that  bound  St.  Hilaire  set  his  arms  at  liberty. 

Captain  Dessarts  formed  his  men  around  the 
scaffold  to  prevent  interference  on  the  part  of  the 
crowd.  St.  Hilaire  took  Tournay  by  the  hand. 

"  You  have  come  in   time,  colonel,    to   do   me 


368  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

a  great  service,"  he  said.  "  Now  give  me  a  weapon, 
and  let  me  take  part  in  any  further  fight." 

Tournay  gave  him  a  pistol.  St.  Hilaire  went 
to  the  side  of  Madame  d'Arlincourt.  The  crowd 
began  again  to  surge  around  the  soldiers  threaten 
ingly. 

"  Let  the  guillotine  go  on !  "  "  Let  the  execu 
tioner  finish  his  work !  "  were  the  cries  from  all 
sides. 

"  Citizens,"  yelled  Sanson,  who  had  risen  to  his 
feet  and  was  now  rubbing  his  bruised  sides,  "  you 
are  a  thousand.  They  are  only  a  few  soldiers. 
Take  back  the  prisoners  and  I  will  execute  them." 

"Make  ready  —  aim,"  was  Colonel  Tournay's 
quick  command.  The  muskets  clicked ;  the  crowd 
fell  back.  "  Fix  bayonets,  forward  march."  And 
through  the  press  Colonel  Tournay  bore  those 
whom  he  had  saved  from  the  guillotine. 

No  organized  attempt  was  made  to  attack  them, 
and  the  party  proceeded  to  the  Eue  d'Arcis  unmo 
lested.  Here  Tournay  turned  to  his  captain. 

"  Dessarts,  leave  a  file  of  men  here  and  take  the 
others  back  to  their  barracks  for  repose,  but  hold 
them  subject  to  immediate  orders." 

"  Very  good,  my  colonel,"  and  the  soldiers  were 
marched  away. 

Madame  d'Arlincourt  showed  signs  of  succumb 
ing  to  the  effects  of  the  terrible  strain  to  which 
she  had  been  subjected,  and  St.  Hilaire,  support 
ing  her  gently,  hastened  to  the  door  of  his  former 
servant. 

In  another  instant  they  were  all  inside. 


THE  END   OF  THE  TERROR  369 

They  passed  through  the  corridor  and  entered 
the  wainscoted  salon.  As  they  did  so  the  book 
case  above  moved  gently.  Edme  entered  through 
the  secret  door  and  stood  for  an  instant  surrounded 
by  a  frame  of  dusty  books,  looking  down  upon 
them. 

In  her  plain  gown  of  homespun,  with  her  skin 
browned  by  exposure  to  the  air,  and  cheeks  which 
had  the  glow  of  health  in  them  despite  the  hard 
ship  she  had  undergone,  Edme  de  Eochefort  was 
a  different  picture  from  that  of  the  girl  of  five 
years  before.  Yet  it  was  not  the  present  Edme 
that  suffered  by  comparison. 

With  a  cry  of  joy  she  hastened  down  the  stairs. 
"  I  have  been  told  the  glorious  news,"  she  cried. 
"  Have  you  returned  to  tell  me  it  is  all  true  ?  But 
you  are  wounded !  "  she  exclaimed  in  the  same 
breath,  with  a  cry  of  alarm. 

"  'T  is  nothing,"  Tournay  replied,  folding  her 
in  his  arms.  "  I  do  not  even  feel  it." 

"  Is  all  the  danger  over  ?  "  she  asked  anxiously, 
looking  up  in  his  face.  » 

"Not  all  over,"  he  answered  caressingly.  "  The 
result  hangs  in  the  balance,  but  we  shall  win,  we 
shall  surely  win.  At  present  we  have  need  of  a 
little  food  and  repose.  St.  Hilaire  and  myself 
must  go  out  again  shortly.  Has  Gaillard  come 
with  a  message?  I  expected  him  from  the  con 
vention,"  he  continued,  addressing  Beaurepaire. 

"  He  has  not  returned,"  was  the  answer. 

Edme  turned  to  assist  Agatha  in  caring  for 
Madame  d'Arlin court,  while  old  Beaurepaire 


370  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

busied  himself  in  setting  forth  some  food  upon  the 
table. 

At  this  moment  Gaillard  burst  into  the  room, 
followed  by  Father  Ambrose. 

"  I  bring  glorious  news !  "  cried  the  actor  ex 
citedly.  "  Robespierre,  at  one  time  released  by 
the  aid  of  Henriot,  has  been  rearrested.  He  has 
attempted  suicide.  Henriot,  St.  Just,  Couthon, 
are  also  arrested.  They  will  all  be  sent  to  the 
guillotine.  The  convention  triumphs.  The  Com 
mune  is  defeated.  The  Reign  of  Terror  is  at  an 
end." 

The  news  was  received  with  a  great  shout  of 
joy.  "  Listen,"  called  out  Gaillard,  "  and  you  will 
learn  what  the  people  think." 

The  booming  of  guns  and  the  ringing  of  bells 
throughout  the  city  verified  his  statement. 

"  We  have  won  !  "  said  Colonel  Tournay. 

"  Let  us  celebrate  the  victory  by  this  feast  that 
Beaurepaire  has  provided !  "  exclaimed  St.  Hilaire, 

Tournay  drew  Edme  into  the  recess  of  one  of 
the  large  windows.  The  sound  of  a  whole  city 
rejoicing  at  the  abolition  of  the  Reign  of  Terror 
filled  the  air.  In  the  room  at  the  back  the  voices 
of  Gaillard  and  St.  Hilaire  were  heard  in  joyful 
conversation. 

For  a  moment  they  stood  in  silence.  She  looked 
into  his  eyes  and  read  the  question  there. 

"  Yes,"  her  eyes  answered. 

"  In  order  to  save  your  life,"  he  said,  "  Father 
Ambrose  once  stated  that  you  and  I  were  man 
and  wife.  It  was  a  subterfuge,  and  had  no  other 


A  MOMENT  THEY  STOOD  IN  SILENCE 


THE   END  OF  THE  TERROR  371 

meaning.  We  now  stand  before  him  once  again  ; 
will  you  let  him  marry  us  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Kobert." 

With  a  look  of  pride  and  happiness  upon  his 
face  Tournay  faced  about  and  addressed  the  com 
pany. 

"  There  can  be  no  more  fitting  time  than  this," 
he  said,  "  to  present  to  you  my  bride,"  and  he 
looked  proudly  down  at  Ednae*  who  still  had  her 
arm  through  his. 

"  Father  Ambrose,"  Tournay  went  on,  "  will 
you  marry  us  now  ?  " 

The  priest,  who  had  evidently  had  a  premoni 
tion  of  the  event,  was  all  prepared ;  and  in  the 
wainscoted  salon,  with  the  portraits  of  the  old 
regime  looking  down  upon  them  from  the  walls, 
Robert  Tournay,  a  colonel  of  the  Republic,  and 
Edme  de  Rochefort,  of  the  ancient  Regime  of 
France,  were  made  man  and  wife. 

"  Let  us  drink  a  toast  to  them  ! "  cried  St.  Hi- 
laire  as  the  happy  party  gathered  about  the  table 
after  the  ceremony.  "  Long  life  and  happiness  to 
Colonel  Robert  Tournay  and  his  bride !  " 

Beaurepaire  filled  their  glasses  with  some  rare 
old  Burgundy,  which  he  drew  from  some  hidden 
stores  in  the  cellar,  and  the  toast  was  drunk  with 
enthusiasm. 

St.  Hilaire's  eyes  met  Madame  d'Arlincourt's, 
and  the  look  that  was  interchanged  foretold  their 
future. 

Tournay  stood  in  silence  for  a  moment,  and 
when  he  did  speak  there  was  a  note  in  his  voice 


372  ROBERT  TOURNAY 

which  showed  how  deep  was  his  emotion.  "  I  will 
give  you  a  toast.  Let  us  drink  to  the  new  France  ; 
for  after  all,"  he  continued,  looking  from  one  to 
the  other,  "  we  are  all  Frenchmen.  The  fate  of 
France  must  be  our  fate.  With  her  we  must  stand 
or  fall.  A  new  France  has  now  risen  from  the 
ashes  of  the  old.  To  her  we  turn  with  new  hope." 

"  Long  live  the  Republic  !  "  cried  Gaillard. 

Tournay,  St.  Hilaire,  and  Gaillard  touched 
glasses  and  looked  into  one  another's  eyes.  They 
understood  one  another  as  brave  men  do. 

"  Nations  may  rise  or  they  may  crumble  into 
dust,"  said  Colonel  Tournay,  "but  Justice  and 
Liberty  are  eternal.  They  will  live  always  in  the 
hearts  of  men." 

"  And  Love  also,"  whispered  Edme  in  his  ear. 

"  Yes,  truly,  and  Love  also,  sweetheart." 


KLECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED 
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CAMBRIDGE,  MASS.,    U.  S.  A. 


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